


All's Fair in Blood and Audis

by ProspertheXVIII



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Bitney - Freeform, Chance Meeting, F/F, Fluff, Genderswap, Lesbian AU, Slow Burn, broken leg, character injury, rpdr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-01-17 18:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12371868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProspertheXVIII/pseuds/ProspertheXVIII
Summary: Bianca was pissed off. She had places to be and shit to do, and where was she but stuck in the ER, nursing a broken leg and wounded pride, unsure of which one hurt worse, and trying to convince herself that the blonde Aussie who put her in this whole mess isn't cute. A bad liar, and a worse driver, sure. But not cute. Car accidents are always shitty basises for relationships anyway.Cis women AU





	1. Chapter 1

Bianca was pissed off.

Generally speaking, according to her face, 'pissed off' seemed to be her state of being, but this time it was real - far too real, in fact; a sort of omnipresent drizzling storm-cloud hanging three feet above her head, black and ominous. She was a grown woman with places to be and shit to do, and where the fuck was she but stuck in the emergency room - nursing a broken leg and wounded pride, and trying to establish which hurt more.

To the credit of the idiotic bitch who'd caused the whole mess, driving in NYC had a tendency to be treacherous at best and downright batshit at its absolute worst - but then again, that just made being a pedestrian all the closer to running the gauntlet every time one wished to cross the street. The whole scene had been very 'Devil Wears Prada' - Bianca on her end-of-lunch-break dash back to the shop, skinny latte in one hand and the other laden with bags of emergency-purchased faux-fur and pleather, and a two-gallon zip-lock full of rhinestones (some moron had written down the wrong collection date for a bunch of ensemble costumes for 'Kinky Boots', and the mad dash to get everything finished within the day had been cut short by a total lack of necessary materials) halfway to the other side of a crosswalk, not a hundred feet from the shop - next thing she knew, she was on her ass and bleeding from her face; one shoe six feet away from her, the middle of her shin bent at a 145° angle, jewels all over the place, fabric breaking free from the ripped bags and billowing out into the air like something from 'Priscilla' - and some blonde bimbo in a white bodycon dress sheepishly exiting the white Audi that had just sent Bianca flying (whether the car matched the dress, or the dress matched the car, she wasn't sure) and seeming almost to contemplate apologising, before noticing her cracked windshield and launching into a fucked-off, lamenting tangent about how inconvenient this was for _her_. Bianca scoffed at the memory. Woe is me, woe is me - at least you've still got all your fucking bones intact.

So, it wasn't even one o'clock and her day had already gone to shit. She was sitting in a bed, in a busy, sweaty ER; cut off from the noise and the grossness and the bratty screaming children in the waiting room by a flimsy paper curtain - in the midst of a staring contest with her plastered right foot and wishing she'd gotten a pedicure recently, denuded of anything with which to entertain herself - her iPhone was in bits, her handbag having left her grip on impact and been flung several feet in the opposite direction, its contents spraying out through the open zip, and cell getting run over by a breaking cab in the chaos of emergency stops and yelling bystanders as it came to people's attention that shit had gone down. She wasn't even going to try and think about how the hell she was going to pay for this, only half-sure that her insurance would cover it. And the cherry on top of the whole shit sundae - she hadn't gotten a spare five seconds to ask to use a phone so as to be able to check in with work and explain her current predicament; and her boss had fucked off to Barbados the previous week, leaving her to be the most in-charge (and debatably only semi-competent) person there, so she'd have to clean up the ensuing mess with the 'Kinky Boots' people when they came to pick up their stuff and got jack shit. Great - just _fucking_ fantastic. A girl just can't catch a break these days.

She looked down to the floor at the battered remnants of her handbag - some expensive Chanel nonsense she'd been suckered into buying on account of being intimidated by the much younger, much more fashionable shop assistant. There was a huge rip in the black leather, the lining having come unstitched from the zip on one side, and one of the handles clinging on by a thread - its contests had certainly seen better days to boot. She'd had a look at her face in her cracked compact mirror about an hour ago, and it wasn't pretty. A small cut at her left eyebrow had been pulled closed with paper stitches; a graze at her temple covered over with gauze, having been previously oozing bloody stickiness down the side her face. Her top lip had ballooned at the right corner; her eyes were blackening, the bridge of her nose was bruising; she had a third of a face of makeup left on at absolute best, and her dark auburn hair was in disarray, strands breaking out of its high ponytail in every which way, her bangs sticking up in odd directions like a three-year old had decided to take scissors to a Barbie doll. She looked like shit, frankly, and she wasn't happy about it. Every part of her stung if it wasn't aching; her elbows scraped red-raw (her blouse hadn't been looking too great either, but she'd been forced to give that up in favour of a assless hospital gown) and peppered with dirt and bits of Tarmac - her entire right side was road-rash from ankle to armpit. Then there was of course the issue of the leg - by all accounts she'd broken her fibula in two places and her tibia in one, roughly at her ankle. Surprisingly clean given the circumstances; limited complications and no surgery required, but still inconvenient as all hell. The cast was staying for six weeks or so, which was a pain in the ass. So, showers involving an unnecessary amount of time, effort, trash bags, and duct tape from now on, and she was stuck butt-shuffling up and down stairs. Fabulous. She was going to have to try and convince Bunny to walk her dogs for her for the ensuing few months, and that in itself would be a trial, given that it would have to involve the older woman getting off her ass for a half-hour or so every day - which, generally speaking, didn't rinse with her.

So much fucking _planning_ \- Bianca was pissed off with the whole situation, but more so with her sudden inexplicable inability to shut her brain up. The last thing she needed was interjections of 'oh by the way, you need to deal with this too' at five-minute intervals, just as she thought she had everything figured out. Leave it to her to get into this shitshow when work couldn't be more chaotic. That said, the time to breathe in her personal life wouldn't exactly go amiss - though she'd have preferred to spend said breathing time on a beach somewhere sunny with a cocktail in hand, rather than beached on her couch watching 'Judge Judy' with her leg in a cast - not even technically allowed to drink thanks to the fucking pain meds.

"Knock, knock." Bianca heard a small, tentative voice from the other side of the curtain; a head poking through it not a moment later. Oh, Jesus Christ.  
"I was wondering when you were going to show your face," Bianca scowled, deadpan and scathing - watching coldly as the blonde scampered in, perching nervously on the plastic chair at her bedside and clutching her white Louboutin bag in both hands, shuffling a little awkwardly to pull her tiny skirt down over her derrière, before offering a small smile to Bianca. She turned away, rolling her eyes a little.  
"I would've come sooner, but I had to wait for the police to get done with me. I'm really sorry." She pursed her lips, avoiding eye contact with the formidable brunette as she nervously twirled a lock of blonde hair around one finger. Bianca was beginning to reckon it was bottled now that she looked closer; an inch of darker, dull dishwater-blonde roots at her parting. Was that a hint of an accent she detected? Australian - Kiwi, possibly?  
"You drive like an asshole," Bianca stated plainly.  
"Shit - sorry, I didn't see you coming, I-"  
"It was a red light and you weren't paying attention - let's call a spade a spade, sweetie. You're a terrible liar. Now are we done making excuses, or do you wanna try again? I'll probably be stuck here for a while - I could use the entertainment."

The blonde was stunned into silence at this, looking ruffled and taken aback at Bianca's cavalier bluntness - looking to her stiletto-shod feet and grimacing, a heavy sigh escaping her. If the raccoon rings beneath her eyes were anything to go on, she appeared to have been crying - though if it was remorse or guilt-tripping, Bianca had no way to tell. Giving a tight-lipped smile, she looked up again after a moment or two - Bianca this time being the one to refuse eye contact initially, before softening a tad and meeting the blonde's gaze.  
"I'm Courtney," she said slowly, trying to fill the space in the conversation. Bianca had decided that the accent was probably Australian. "Courtney Jenek."  
"Bianca Haylock. Pleasure." She added as an afterthought, still chilly and cutting.  
"...How you feeling? You look pretty rough..."  
"Thanks." Bianca side-eyed her, scoffing at the remark. You probably wouldn't look too hot if you'd just been smeared across a sidewalk either, princess. "To be honest, I feel like shit, everything hurts, and you have done sweet fuck-all to make my life any easier today, so thank you very much."  
"I'd lie and say that it's because we drive on the other side of the road down under, and I got confused - but I've been here for like three years now, and like you said, I'm a shitty liar." Courtney gave a small, airy snort of a laugh at this - Bianca rolling her eyes again.  
"Oh, so you're Australian? That explains the single-digit IQ - and that insufferable accent."  
Courtney nodded, the barb washing over her like water off of a duck's back. "Sydney. Via Brisbane, technically." Another pert laugh - it sounded kinda like a fairy fart, Bianca thought for a moment. Courtney sighed, slumping her shoulders and leaning forward a little, grimacing. "Shit...What's the damage, then?"  
"My leg's busted. Three fractures, in various places. You drive like an asshole - it bears repeating."  
"God, I'm so sorry - I..."  
"Look, stop apologising. It is what it is - plus your voice is fucking annoying."  
"You know, you're very passive-aggressive," Courtney folded her legs, aloof and trying to match Bianca's snark, turning her face away and tossing a blonde curl over her shoulder. Hmm - for an annoying asshole who couldn't drive, this bitch didn't have a half-bad profile. Or rack, for that matter. Bianca caught herself just as the thought arose, firmly telling herself to eliminate it from her mind. Goddamn, since more-or-less getting over Katya, she couldn't seem to shake the twinge of attraction that she felt somewhere in her every time a pretty blonde looked sideways at her. But this girl was straighter than a line, she could tell just by looking at her, and besides - their current situation was a bit of a shitty basis for a relationship. Or even a hookup - god, that didn't even bear thinking about; not in Bianca's current state, where she was sure she'd never looked or felt less attractive in her life.  
"In case you didn't notice, you hit me with your fucking car. I think I'm within my right to be passive-aggressive."  
"If it's any consolation, my windscreen is fucked."  
"It isn't really, no." Bianca scoffed, laughing a little to herself, and side-eyeing Courtney as she looked down at her knees and smiled a little. "Now, are you just here to clear your own conscience, or is there anything else?"  
"I mostly just wanted to apologise. I fucked up."  
"No shit, Sherlock."  
She shrugged a little, trying to appear blasé at the comment. "I just...God, it was so scary. I thought you were dead for a second."  
"Bitch, until I got here and they pumped me full of pain meds, I wished I _was_ fucking dead. That said, right now you could probably stab me without me noticing, I'm that full of dope. It's great."  
"Does it hurt?"  
"What do you think? My face looks like I got it caught in a garbage disposal unit - it stings like a motherfucker."  
"Oh, come on, it isn't that bad-"  
"Shitty liar. Besides, I've seen it - it's a fucking mess."  
"Yeah, but it doesn't look too bad - I think you're working the 'beat to shit' look. Anyway, by the look of things you got some free temporary lip fillers out of this."  
"The ones I already had in there weren't fucking free - and stop trying to sugar-coat shit. If you think that you can bat your lashes and play with your hair enough for you to cute your way out of me being mad at you, you're dead wrong. I am not going to find you 'adorable'." She placed the word in a gesture of ersatz quotes, Courtney laughing it off as she looked to the floor again, examining her nails. Bianca's statement had only been half a lie - God, this bitch was pretty. Not her type, granted - at least seven years younger than her too. And she was struggling not to find it all endearing - were it not for the important factor in the circumstances of their meeting that was the fact that she'd fucking run her over.  
"Listen, is there anything I can do to help at all?"  
"I mean, a time machine would be nice. I'm too busy to deal with this crap right now."  
"Oh, ha-ha. I know it sucks, but-"  
"Look, sweetheart - you've apologised your ass off, and that's getting kinda annoying, so don't do that again. Outside of that, there's nothing much that can be done. Just get on with your day, and forget about it. My lawyers will be in touch later." Courtney looked taken aback at this - her face dropping, hands wringing in her lap as she chewed her lip, until Bianca cracked a small smile; an indication of the fact that she was joking. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I mean, if the cops have already chewed you out over it, then I don't care. What am I gonna gain from it besides more stress, which I also don't have time for?"  
Courtney looked up, sighing a little; a tentative ghost of a smile on her lips. "Thanks - you're kinda scary, but you've got more of a heart than most people do. I was anticipating getting sued, and well - I haven't got the resources to deal with that. I mean, I thought I was gonna get fucking arrested."  
"Nah, you're too pretty for jail. They weren't too harsh on you?"  
"I reckon they thought I was drunk, initially. They took bloods and breathalysed me and shit, and then I started crying, so they probably realised that I'm just an ignorant moron and let me off with a slap on the wrist and a telling-off about pulling my head out my arse when I'm driving."  
"See, told you - resting on pretty works in most facets of life. Just not on this hardened bitch." Bianca gave a little smirk with a raised eyebrow. "Look, as long as you're fine then you can fuck off and go about your business. I'd do the same, but I'm kinda stuck here until my ride shows up, and last time I checked she was still in bed, so that could be years." Why she bothered relying on Bunny to get shit done was utterly beyond her - the woman's sense of urgency was located directly up her asshole, amongst the various other things that had wound up there over the years. She loved the bitch, but she was about as much use as a knitted condom in a crisis.  
"Cheers. I'd offer, but I can't see shit out of the front of my car, so I'm gonna have to get a taxi back into work anyway."  
"Oh, what a shame for you - at least you've got the luxury of being able to go back at some point in the next month."  
"Shit, never thought about that. What do you do for a living?"  
"I'm a costume designer - theatre and TV and drag and all that jazz. Hence the sequins and silk everywhere earlier."  
"Aww, sweet. That's ironic."  
"In what way?"  
"I'm an actress - well, kinda. I do a bit of everything - modelling, singing, whatever. I'm understudying for Lauren in 'Kinky Boots' right now - speaking of which, our costume fitting's today, and I don't want to be any later than I already am."  
Bianca smirked. Fate is fucking artistic. "Good luck with that."  
"Thank you! Good luck to you with the...this." Courtney gestured to her as she stood up, Bianca scoffing and flipping her off as her back was turned. "See ya later - nice to meet you, shame about the circumstances."  
Bianca smirked, flashing her dimples as the Aussie giving her a tiny wave - the brunette watching her sheepishly leave the cubicle. "Break a leg, sweetheart."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first foray into the RPDR fandom - unoriginal idea, please don't shoot me. I absolutely love Bianca and Courtney, and all the fics I've read in the past where they're biological women have made me squeal, so here's my contribution. Part two coming eventually. 
> 
> This is inspired in large part by the broken leg rumours about Bianca - I couldn't resist. 
> 
> NB: I used their 'boy' surnames for realism's sake. No reason besides that. That's inconsistent throughout - boy names are getting used in place of nonsensical surnames e.g Thunderfuck and Needles, but Zamolodchikova and other 'actual' names get kept. Again, no real reasoning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those unaware, pension-aged NYC queens and B's IRL friends Lady Bunny and Jackie Beat are the two non-RPDR ladies referenced in this chapter. I couldn't resist....

It had only been three days, and life was starting to get boring. Bianca gave a heavy sigh, leaning her head back to rest against the couch cushion and staring at the ceiling - close to being at her wit's end, but not quite there yet. The TV droned in the background - some kind of daytime baby-daddy-drama crap (Dr. Phil, last time she'd checked) - half-drowned out by Delilah's intermittent barking and snuffling at the door.   
"Make all the noise you want, honey - I can't take you anywhere. You'll have to wait and see if Bun-Bun decides to show herself." Bianca rolled her eyes; Samson was curled on her lap, dozing utterly still, like a warm, breathing furry throw-pillow. Her _actual_ throw cushions had had to be repurposed, propping up her broken leg on the coffee table. Everything about this sucked. Fuck Courtney, and everything about her - dainty smile and enigmatic green eyes included. Bitch. 

Bianca had noticed herself investing an irritating amount of thought in the blonde Aussie; taking a break out of her routine of channel-surfing and Twitter-trawling to stalk through the other woman's Facebook profile that she'd found after laboriously trying about eighteen different ways to spell 'Jenek' and repeatedly fucking up. Three mutual friends - a couple of Bianca's colleagues, plus - inexplicably - Adore. Small world. The smiling face that radiated from the assortment of pissed girls' night selfies and backstage shots from various photo shoots and theatre performances (she'd apparently been a background Ozian in 'Wicked' a year or so back, and Bianca was convinced she'd made her costume - though she had, of course, never met the wearer; just been handed her measurements and told to do her thing) half-turned her stomach - the other half made her feel something else in her stomach of entirely the opposite nature, and that irked her. 

The state of her living room was also starting to get on her nerves; empty glasses and dirty plates scattered over every available surface, a half-overflowing ashtray on table - partially-read books, disinteresting magazines, and torn-out sketchbook pages making up the remainder of the clutter - she was itching to do something more with herself, but her ability to draw was quickly vanishing along with her sanity - irrespective of the fact that she had work to do (the rest of the crew back at the shop had been understanding, in a begrudging sort of way - what other option did they have? - and her place had been filled by the least incompetent of the miscellaneous incompetent others until her superior got back from vacay) it was like she'd forgotten how to hold a pen. Fucking typical - all the time in the world, but her ability to do what she needed to do to fill it productively had vanished it her sleep. 

The mess situation had not been aided at all by Bunny and Jackie deciding to show up at stupid o'clock the previous night with takeout and wine, which had - truly in the trio's style - been left lying at their asses as the night dragged on and they sat laughing, boozing, and smoking, watching 'To Wong Foo' for the thousandth time. It hadn't exactly been unwelcome - she'd been feeling pretty down in the dumps all through the previous day, the pain having worsened before it got better - whiplash kicking in after a night of sleep, leaving her whole body feeling more like she'd been hit by a freight train rather than a car. However, she'd been peer-pressured into chancing her luck with one glass of Cabernet before realising why her meds came with the 'don't drink' label, and had spent the rest of the evening feeling like her head was going to fall off; too woozy to tell either of the other two to fuck off once they'd outstayed their welcome. And they were both fucking talented at outstaying their welcome. She'd been woken up at six that morning by the dogs barking, to find that she'd crashed on the sofa, her eyelids heavy and cast covered in drunken Sharpie signatures and doodles of tits (at least it wasn't her face for once,) 'BREAK THE OTHER ONE' scrawled in Jackie's handwriting - Bunny had fucked off at some point while the other two had been asleep; Bianca had had to physically remove Jackie, the brunette dozing on her floor until she was interrupted. Turns out that crutches serve a dual purpose when it comes to kicking residually wine-drunk friends out of your apartment before sunrise. 

Obviously sleeping on her sofa with her head at an odd angle hadn't done her body much good; she'd woken up unable to move her neck more than an inch or so in any direction, furry teeth and dry mouth, regretting everything that had transpired the night before. That was definitely a sign of her age - waking up feeling like shit from one glass of wine, in her living room. Fuck. She'd spent the best part of the last couple of days in bed, pouting and feeling sorry for herself, and had decided to make an attempt at being productive after getting rid of Jackie, calling to make sure Bunny had made it home alive, and about five gallons of coffee. She'd braved the shower for the first time since her accident, and it had predictably stung like a bitch, and expended way more energy than it should have - but the whole thing had been a necessary evil; she was starting to get to such a stage of unwashed disgustingness that she could smell herself, which was never good, and there's only so much that Batiste can do after three days; her hair was getting gross to the point that if she hadn't dealt with it there and then, she'd probably have wound up shaving her head, and she'd made _that_ mistake during her college-aged 'militant dyke' phase. As much as she disliked the cliche, a wash and some clean clothes had left her feeling like a new woman - or as close as she could with the omnipresent aches and pains.

Her productive streak had ended there, though, and she'd found herself back where she'd started the day - on her couch, 'Toddlers and Tiaras' or some shit of that vague sort serving as background noise whilst she sat, bored to tears - only this time in a different pair of sweatpants and oversized t-shirt, hair air-drying and loose to the centre of her back, forming messy, directionless curls. Only five and three-quarter weeks left of this shit, Bea. Great. 

She'd sent a few bored Snapchats back and forth to Adore here and there, their first correspondence since Bianca's mishap - the younger woman, currently rocking her hair in a dark teal ombré, was napping and eating her way over a hangover in Laganja's apartment, and had opened the conversation by telling Bianca that she looked like shit; after she'd explained what had happened, as per, the conversation had gone in the vein of 'I'm from Azusa, bitch - do you need me to kill someone?' - Bianca had then interrogated Adore on why she was FB friends with Courtney in the first place (they'd hooked up while drunk about a year ago, and Adore hadn't seen or heard from her since - so apparently she was a lot less straight than she'd initially seemed) and then it appeared that Adore had either fallen asleep or died, because the conversation had gone the way of the dodo about an hour ago.

She'd had to decline two separate offers for drinks and brunch from Darienne and Dela, respectively - Jesus, she'd never realised before, but her 'boring' life was nowhere near that fucking boring. _This_ \- now this shit was boring. Even if she could be fucked facing the world, she still wasn't looking too hot; her face bore striking resemblance to...well, to a car crash victim. The cuts in her cheeks and forehead looked less impressive and more disgusting without the fresh blood, and whilst the swelling had started to go (though that too had gone majorly downhill before starting to eventually get better) her bruises had deepened to a dark plummy purple - her right eye in particular looked like she'd taken a slug from Muhammad Ali.

She found herself now resisting the urge to drag herself back to bed and try and catch up on lost sleep, but that felt like wasting yet another day, even though there was bugger-all else she could do with herself. She was feeling pretty abysmal, but not bad enough to merit taking a nap when she'd barely been awake for six hours. Looks like she was going to spend the day as she'd spent her morning, disinterestedly flipping through Vogue and browsing social media. Even Dede had given up on trying to get her to move at this stage; the dog now asleep on the floor at her feet, Sammy still dozing on her knee, starting to make her legs go numb from the lack of movement. 

A harsh, insistent knock at the door made Bianca jump - Sammy looking up at her in a disgruntled sort of fashion, seemingly offended that she'd dared to disturb him by moving, before settling down again. She rolled her eyes, half-expecting it to be Bunny or Jackie rolling by to pick up whatever shit they'd left behind last night (there was always something,) or possibly Adore, and if that was the case then they'd let themselves in; usually they didn't even bother knocking - Dela had seemed highly concerned over texts earlier, and she was certainly the tea and sympathy type. But then again, showing up out of the blue wasn't her gig, so she doubted that; although Dela was somebody that she wouldn't have minded seeing - able to hold an interesting conversation without feeling the need to cause chaos or force booze down her neck. Whoever the hell it was, she could try and coerce them into taking the dogs out for a quick stroll - she'd already had to let them out onto the balcony to pee, which she wasn't pleased about. Another knock, this time more insistent. Bianca frowned, sitting up a little, but still struggling to find the energy to stand.   
"Door's open!"  
This was met with silence, a lack of movement behind the door indicating that whoever was on its other side was either deaf or stupid. They knocked again - eliciting a loud groan from Bianca, who reached down the side of the couch, scrabbling blindly for her crutches - one of them having fallen over and wound up just beyond her reach. After the struggle, she picked up Samson, removing him from her lap and putting him down by her side on the couch - the look on his face spelling out 'really, bitch?' as clear as day - before struggling to her feet, hobbling gracelessly and with limited balance to the door. 

On noticing that there was nobody behind it when she eventually got there, Bianca let out a loud, angry moan; leaning forward in defeat as her head hit the doorframe with a soft 'clunk'. It was on looking down, though, that she noticed what was there in place of a person. An ostentatious floral arrangement - mostly greenery, dahlias and roses in red and white, and two or three enormous hothouse lilies that were probably the size of her head. Peculiar - but pretty. She stooped down to pick it up, grasping the doorframe with one hand to steady herself, noticing now the white envelope nestled in amongst the flora, her name written on it in glimmering pink gel pen, a sort of messy cursive. Definitely not handwriting she recognised. Even if Adore was known to have a penchant for gel pens and glitter, her writing leaned on the childish side with its large, rounded letters; dotting her 'i's with circles and punctuating with smiley faces. Besides - one of the girl's most irritating habits was letting herself into Bianca's apartment unannounced; she'd been known to come home of an evening to find Adore napping on her couch, or cross-legged on the kitchen floor eating cereal straight out of the box. 

The trek back to the sofa had felt miles long, and Bianca collapsed into it with a heavy sigh once she got there, meriting another filthy look from the dogs; her palms damp and arms aching. This was going to be a long couple of months. Plucking the card from the bouquet, she sunk back into the cushion, moaning softly from the sheer _relief_ as she opened the envelope - its contents written on a torn-out notebook page, the writing equally scrawling and sprawling as the hand in which her name was written. 

_Bianca,  
First of all, I know I'm a creep - I made eyes at one of your coworkers a bit and he gave me your address. I know it was a bit of a weird move, but it was for a good cause I guess. I mean, I did only meet him because, thanks to our little incident the other day, the cast only wound up with about a third of our costumes - I definitely wasn't the most popular person on set. Lady Luck is a total bitch. _

_I know you think I've said it enough times, but I'm really sorry about what happened. I feel awful about it, but like you said - there's not much I can really do besides apologise. I did a bit of thinking (unusual, I know) about how I could make it up to you, and flowers seemed to be the obvious answer, so here you go._

_Once you're feeling a bit better, how would you feel about possibly meeting up for drinks or some dinner at some point? I felt like it'd be a bit cheeky asking to sign your cast at the hospital, but I still kinda want to do it. Plus, I still feel like I owe you one, and besides - as beautiful as you manage to look while all bashed-up, I quite fancy seeing how much more stunning you look with an intact face. Until then, imagination and Facebook creeping will have to do ;)_

_Rest up, pretty lady, and hope you get well soon!_  
Love,  
Courtney xxx  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Id had plans to make this a two-shot but I got to what had been meant to be the end of this chapter and realised how much more room for adorable there is here, so cut this one short and started on a third where I left off - there may be an extra two or three chapters on top of what I'd planned. Stay tuned....


	3. Chapter 3

Bianca had had to read it about six times before convincing herself she wasn't imagining things. 

A phone number - presumably hers - was scrawled at the bottom the page, next to a fading lipstick kiss in a similar shade of barbie pink to the writing. The whole thing elicited a small smile from Bianca, the unwanted warmth of a blush rising in the woman's cheeks. Stupid fucking charming adorable annoying bitch...So much for not being able to 'cute' her way out of Bianca's bad books. Sweet gesture, sure - unnecessary, and probably fucking expensive as well. Well, she did drive an Audi.

And if this was anything to go on, she definitely was not that straight either.

Bianca turned the words over and over in her mind, trying to come to a conclusion about how flirtatious their nature had been exactly. Maybe she was imagining things - she'd misidentified the line between flirting and friendliness enough times to have learned her lesson about thinking first in order to avoid overstepping the mark - obviously she was all about sorority and free speech and all the rest of it, but there was something confusing about the difference between 'my girlfriend' and 'my girl-friend' when said aloud. But then again, it had literally been sealed with a fucking kiss - that had to mean something, surely? Fuck it, she'd send it to Adore for analysis before responding via the number in the fuchsia scrawl. The girl had slept with her for Christ's sakes, surely she'd be able to establish whether she'd been coming onto her or just being nice. Adore was of course barely literate at her absolute worst, and if she'd been hanging out with Laganja then she was 100% definitely stoned by now, but it was worth a shot. 

She found herself begrudgingly thinking and overthinking about Courtney as she started at her phone, the screen remaining black and dumb, as she waited for a second opinion, and distractedly running her hand through Sammy's fur, the small dog having re-settled on her lap. So, the girl was clearly sorry - possibly into her, at the very least looking to initiate a friendship. All's fair in love and war. And she was on Bianca's mind - that pretty Beverly Hills smile; the light toss of the blonde hair, the way that she toyed with her skirt and her nails in tiny, agitated, birdlike movements - Bianca remembered all of it as clear as day and she hated that she loved it.

But she hated the deja vu twice as much. She hated that she remembered falling for someone in the same ways - that same nervous twitch of the hand and twirl of the gently-tousled golden hair. And she hated that she'd lost her. 

She recalled in equally excruciating detail the night that she'd woken up at three in the morning to the other half of the bed empty; Katya sitting cross-legged and barefoot on the balcony, cigarette in hand and face damp with tears. It had come out without much coercion - she'd met somebody else. And it wasn't so much that she had fallen out of love with Bianca, but it was that she had fallen harder, faster, and more intensely in love with this other girl. Trixie was closer to her age - lighter, brighter, less bitter. She'd said all of this without belittling her current partner - without a hint of resentment. But it had been communicated without words. She was everything that Bianca wasn't. 

As much as it had hurt, Bianca's conscience wouldn't let her keep Katya any longer. It wasn't humane. The other woman spent too much of her life at war with the world to be tied to a girlfriend who she didn't truly care for. And as excruciating as letting go had been, she had known that a life with her was not something that Katya had wanted or needed. She'd moved out within a month. 

That had been near to a year ago - Trixie and Katya had moved out to WeHo; they had gotten engaged at Pride back in July, and Bianca had never seen her former paramour happier. And then here she was, more-or-less alone in the world save for a couple of geriatric chihuahuas and a handful of friends that she could count on her fingers. Maybe getting her leg broken by the wonder from down under had been just what the love guru ordered - or maybe she had seen the similarities in their looks and their little, odd mannerisms and latched onto the new face, in spite of how little she wanted to admit that she felt for her at all. 

It took about an hour and a half (or however fucking long two episodes of 'Honey Boo-Boo' is - long enough for Bianca to be on the verge of sticking a pair of scissors in her eyes because it would probably be more entertaining) for Adore to respond - three unflattering selfies, a clip of Laganja taking a shot and then immediately vomiting, and some incoherent slurred mumbling over a RuPaul song later (if the two of them survived into their thirties, she'd be surprised what with the incessant drinking and drug-taking; shit, she hardly had a clue where she got the money for it all,) and Adore had remembered why Bianca had messaged her in the first place, and reaffirmed what she had been hoping was true - based on a collection of evidence, the Aussie was definitely being flirty.

And so the brunette woman cracked a smile, opening the messenger app on her phone - an old backup she'd found at the bottom of a drawer whilst her proper one got fixed - and typing up a message, unable to wipe the smirk off of her face. Until she reread it and immediately deleted the whole thing. Far too mushy. Absolutely not. She tried again - this time appearing stone-cold and blasé; again, not at all what she wanted. 

It took an embarrassing number of attempts. Eventually, she muttered 'fuck it' to herself; biting the bullet and hitting 'send' without the laborious proofread; the text accompanied by a photo of the flowers on her coffee table. 

_Cute gift. You sure know how to warm an old bitch's cold dead heart. B x_

A reply materialised within less than a minute, followed shortly by a slew of heart emojis. 

_glad you liked em ;) xx_

Bianca smiled again at this, quickly composing a response and sending before reading over it - suddenly almost terrified of losing the other woman's interest. 

_Is this how you treat all your roadkill?_

_only the ones with cute boobs ;p_

The reply came almost automatically; flushing Bianca's face a bright scarlet beneath the bruising. She went to respond; cut off by another message. 

_you feeling any better chook? xxx_

_Looking shitty, feeling worse. No thanks to you._

The conversation continued on in a similar vein for far too long - half-insults and half-flirting; the former mostly delivered by Bianca - the latter by Courtney. Bianca kept finding herself concealing a grin behind a hand, repressing a blush or forcing back giggles in spite of the fact that she was completely alone save for two sleeping dogs. It was disgusting - she was getting het up like a damn teenager over the whole thing. The slightest hint of affection nowadays had the power to turn her into a squealing mess - she barely recognised herself. She hated it. She fucking hated it, and she loved every second of it all at once. 

What the fuck had her life turned into? She'd tried speed-dating and hook-ups and had even found herself stretching to Tinder out of sheer desperation, and what had it taken but a fucking car accident to get her talking with another woman in some way besides bitchery and nonsense as she tended to with Bunny and Jackie - and Adore for that matter. The whole thing was damn confusing - it was _weird_ as all hell. But Courtney clearly didn't care - therefore why should Bianca? She was still trying unbelievably hard to be angry with her, but her total dippiness was making it hard. Impossible, even. It was bizarre, the ease with which they had found themselves talking, like old friends. She was confessional to an almost obscene degree, no hold barred to to any question which Bianca asked her, and the ones coming out of her bearing striking resemblance to the half-tipsy games of 'Truth or Dare' at midnight that Bianca had been sure she'd left in the rear-view mirror with her teenage years, or time in college at the absolute most.

And Bianca found herself opening up - that was unusual, most of her conversation tending to lean towards the superficial. She spent most of her time with her cronies stalking Facebook and reading their high-school frienemies to filth over their disastrous eyebrows or wardrobe or offspring - sober, deep conversations were few and far between. And in her last romantic endeavour, well...Katya was mad as a fucking hatter, but touch the wrong nerve and she shut like a bear trap - Bianca had found through the years that just not broaching possibly touchy subjects was for the best. Their conversations were both fun and funny, but there was always a contentiousness an inch below the surface, as though both were trying to avoid saying the wrong thing. There was an honesty about Courtney - a sort of cavalier bluntness to everything she asked and said, an air of lack of judgement. She just didn't fucking care. 

She had just been notified that her battery was sinking to a dangerously low level for the third time when she came vaguely back to reality - the dogs had buggered off into another room; she could see the sky turning orange through the crack in the curtains, the skyline starkly black against the topaz backdrop. Early evening had snuck up on her without her really noticing or even caring - her day having passed in a blur for having been spent talking to the blonde Aussie. It had gone from being casual time-wasting to something that Bianca practically needed - she would move in a minute, go get a drink in a minute, clear shit up in a minute, just wait until she got a reply. And as she readjusted her seated position, groaning at the stiffness and the dull aches from her lack of movement and persistent slouch, and looked out the window, she felt her phone vibrate in her hands for the hundredth time. 

_I want to see u. busy tonight? xxx_


	4. Chapter 4

"You're fucking crazy," Alaska side-eyed the other woman, who grinned at her phone over her half-full margarita; Courtney's shoulders hunched and her body turned away to try and hide her conversation from the other's prying eyes, smirking coquettishly at the screen.  
"Crazy is as crazy fuckin' does, 'Lasky. I'm going in for the kill."  
"You already went in for the damn kill when you met her, you dumb bitch." Sharon looked equally scathing, leaning over Alaska to stare Courtney down while talking to her. "I have never before in my life met somebody who's decided that the appropriate response to hitting someone with their car is to try and get in their pants."  
"Yeah, but she's pretty," Courtney whinged, kicking her feet almost pathetically before disintegrating into subdued giggles; Alaska and Sharon sharing a quick look of disdain while Courtney's back was turned, Sharon drinking her red wine through a straw to avoid smearing her lipstick. "And- don't try and talk to me about inappropriate circumstances for a relationship - you two met in a strip club ."  
"And how fucking long did that last?" Alaska raised an eyebrow, watching Sharon stifle a laugh.  
"Six years isn't a bad run - and it's not like it totally crashed and burned. I mean, you haven't killed each other yet."  
"Oh whatever, Sheila." Sharon put her now-empty glass down. "So it's a relationship you're looking for now? I thought you just wanted to fuck her."  
"I don't think she'd particularly want fucked right now - I know I wouldn't in that state." She raised an eyebrow, taking a drink - the bar too dark and music too loud to reflect the fact that it was really only early evening.  
"I mean, at least since you broke her leg, she can't run away. What the fuck did you say her name was again? Bernice?" Alaska drawled, trying to attract a bartender's attention in order to obtain another cocktail - the first four having gone down like apple juice.  
"Bianca." Courtney corrected her, relishing the way in which the name rolled off of her lips, and immediately burning away the sensation with another mouthful of her drink, having to choke it back. _Far_ too much tequila for before dinner - at least, if she had a hope in hell of making it to dinner without winding up shitfaced first. The bar was a bit of a dive - cheap, of course (since relocating to NYC she'd found that 'cheap' was both a rarity and a luxury) which was probably the only reason why it remained one of their usual haunts. "Why the fuck are we drinking at half four in the afternoon anyway?"  
"Eh, it's happy hour somewhere," Alaska huffed a tiny snort of a laugh, the joke overused and awful, as she slunk her body over the bar, boobs pressed to the wood as she ordered another Bloody Mary.  
"In Canberra, maybe."  
"Bitch, you've had three of those already, why are you complaining?" Sharon raised an eyebrow contemptuously, dropping her straw into Alaska's drink and taking a sip while the blonde half-assedly tried to flirt her way out of having to pay. "Tell us some more about your new lady then, seeing as you've gone all gooey-eyed over her suddenly."  
"Do you want to see a photo?"  
"Not if it's from after you got done with her." Alaska shuddered a little, looking daggers at Sharon as she took the straw and threw it at her, Sharon making some weak protest about how she was checking for poison.  
"Nah, I found her Instagram." Courtney held her phone out to the two of them - a screenshot of the typically aloof brunette smiling off to one side at nothing in particular, sitting at a restaurant table with a glass of something in front of her; pendulous earrings and vampy auburn hair tied up into a bouffant ponytail with a floral scarf.  
"Jesus, somebody's been touched by an angel." Sharon sneered a little, gesturing to Bianca's painted burgundy pout. "Look at her fucking lips."  
"Oh fuck off, Donnatella. You're one to talk." Courtney snapped back, pulling her phone away as Alaska tried to take it from her. "Look with your _eyes_ , Alaska - God, you're like my mum. Anyway, I think she's pretty."  
"And that's after she's been beaten to shit the only time you've seen her." Alaska raised an eyebrow. "I mean, we all knew you were nuts, Court, but surely this is weird even for you."  
"Is she not way older than you? She looks it."  
"Ten years at absolute most," Courtney shrugged it off like it was nothing, turning back to her cocktail (which she had decided tasted like a combination of lime Jolly Ranchers and gasoline.) "I've had older."  
"Only because he was buying shit for you."  
"I think it's hot - I've always wanted to be a cougar." Sharon laughed a little, fixing her hair (currently dyed lavender-blonde on one side and black on the other) using the brass beer tap as a mirror.  
"God, when did your love life get so fucking boring? Why couldn't you have just tried a little fuckin harder with Adore - she was cool, I liked her."  
"I mean, she was cute, I kinda fancied her - but she keeps her brain in her arse and she smelled like bong water. I'm only down for that when I'm eight shots deep at least. Not wifey material."  
"And this bitch is? For the life insurance, maybe."  
"Don't be fucking rude!" Courtney half-snapped at Alaska, forcing back a smile as she hit out at the other woman with her handbag - stopping abruptly, her attention then grabbed by another text, leaving Alaska rolling her eyes, muttering something about modern-day, gay Romeo and Juliette. 

_Not really but I'm also not leaving the house looking like I do_

_fuck it i'll come to u then. whats your address xx_

Courtney responded almost without thinking, not even reading her words until the bubble beneath them flashed from white to blue to being filled by Bianca's contact photo - the same Insta picture she'd screenshotted earlier; it was all too easy to imagine herself at the other side of the image smiling back at the fiery brunette, dressed to the nines with with a glass of rosé, and finding herself flushing with embarrassment at the realisation that she'd thought it at all. Even the caption boded well for Courtney's daydream - 'DATE NIGHT WITH MY LOVE @katyazamo' followed by an assortment of heart and alcohol-based emojis - if it hadn't been for the other username. Though Courtney had done her share of snooping by now, and whoever Katya was, she was clearly no longer Bianca's if the other woman in most of her pictures and their matching engagement rings was anything to go on.

She was distracting herself out of panic - Bianca had seen it. Oh fuck - no bailing now. But then, she had enough Dutch courage in her that she didn't really care - Tipsy Courtney, whilst not urinating in public and licking random strangers in the same manner as her counterpart 'Three-sheets-to-the-wind Courtney', possessed the gumption to do what Sober Courtney would be too afraid of. Sober Court would probably be panicking by now, already scratching for possible solutions and ways out. Her tipsy self was the perfect happy balance between the two. No time like the present. 

_My apartment is a shithole and I look awful - you sure?_

_positive - address, now_

Courtney gave a small smile at the other woman's token protest - definitely token, as another text came through a moment later with the details that she'd been trying to badger out of her - Uber already open on her phone. That was definitely one of Courtney's talents in life - irritating people until she got what she wanted. She rose to her feet, picking up her stuff and finishing her drink in one fluid - if drink-addled and shaky - movement, eliciting pissed-off groans from both of her companions.  
"Where the fuck are you going?" Alaska whined, scowling at her.  
"Places." She smirked, walking away with a swing to her step as Alaska hurled abuse at her in a half-cocked sort of fashion; looking back as it ceased, she realised her empty chair had been quickly filled, the noise coming from the platinum blonde having caught the attention of Pearl, Max, and Fame, the three wandering over from across the room, Pearl and Max perching half an ass-cheek each on the stool while Fame stood behind them. Ah well, as long as someone else was there to moderate - knowing their rep, Alaska and Sharon would wind up either fucking or tearing one another's heads off if left for long enough with booze and no other company. 

Courtney didn't really care either way - so lost in the moment and her own daydreaming that the scene behind her didn't matter at all. Let Shalaska kill each other if that's what they really wanted. She leaned against the outside wall, the evening sun warm and amber against her skin, deceptive when compared to the frigid breeze sweeping its way in as the night wore on. She smiled to herself, oddly serene as she planned her next move. 

Maybe this whole situation _was_ kind of weird. Oh well. Who gives a shit?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured Court deserved a chapter from her POV...
> 
> Excuse the moderate Bianca/Katya angst. I know that they're not really much of a ship, but I wanted to have some mention of a past relationship, but seeing as I lowkey ship Biadore too, I couldn't bring myself to separate them. Plus their friendship is too cute, hence my referencing it earlier on. What with her role in Hurricane Bianca 2, Katya was my next best option.


	5. Chapter 5

Bianca wasn't sure whether to be excited, or furious with her. 

She'd been far too caught up in the moment to decline when Courtney had broached the subject of meeting - only really realising what she'd gotten herself into in the interim between half-agreeing to the blonde coming over, and giving over her address. She didn't know the bitch - she might be a serial killer for fuck's sake. Shit, she'd already tried to kill her once this week, hadn't she? Besides, she'd been with Katya for about a month before she'd even let the other woman see her without makeup on; lest of all with two black eyes and a graze down her forehead that would make a cage fighter wince. All of this - every single reasonable doubt and then some accounted for, and yet she'd agreed anyway. When she'd last responded, Courtney had been in an Uber on her way, ETA in an hour's time. Fuck. 

And so Bianca had found herself doing some quick-fire cleanup around her lounge, dumping the worst of the plates and empty glasses in the sink to be dealt with later, throwing the miscellaneous other detritus that had accumulated around her in the trash, digging out a vase for the gifted flowers, and then needing a ten-minute sit-down to get over the exhaustion. Even the smallest movements still hurt like a motherfucker - so, running around like her ass was on fire in a bid to make her house look presentable was never going to bode well for her. She'd possibly never seen Sammy and Dede looking more confused - her sudden coming to life starkly contrasting the three days of total inactivity that had preceded it. Once she'd found the strength to peel herself off the couch again, she'd hobbled through to her room to try and spruce herself up a little; the sweatpants were staying, but she'd put on a nicer top and some earrings, arranging her hair into some semblance of order - teased and ponytailed at the crown of her head, bangs swept off her face and a polka-dotted scarf tied around her head. A spritz of perfume and some lipstick, and she was almost presentable - heavy emphasis on the 'almost'. She'd been mid-mascara application when she heard the door - or rather, heard the dogs freaking out because of the door. 

Courtney hovered a little nervously outside, shifting from one foot to the other in an agitated sort of way as she chewed on her over-glossed bottom lip. As much as she'd liked to think she'd been impulsive about the whole thing, this wasn't terribly true - worried she looked as though she was trying too hard, she'd come via her own apartment to change out of the sleeveless mint bodycon she'd been wearing out with Alaska and Sharon, opting instead for a baby-pink halter and boyfriend jeans, Adidas sneakers replacing her diamanté stilettos. She toyed with the ends of her hair, twirling a blonde curl around her little finger - trying to convince herself not to walk even though the whole thing had been her idea.

There was something about Bianca that intimidated her despite herself - as Sharon had taken such great delight in reminding her, she was older; and she had the power to verbally decapitate her without batting an eyelash, as she'd learned in the ER the day that they'd met. She feared her, yeah, but she wanted her more. There was a certain allure in how fierce she was - part of Courtney wanted her to take her over her knee and spank her, whilst the other half wanted to pick away that exterior; to find the real person that existed beneath the bitch. She was far too put-together for it not to be both stunning and unnerving - immaculate nails, hardly ever a hair out of place (well, except from when she'd just been run over, but that was probably asking a bit much of her) - the bitch must go through enough hairspray to have put her own personal hole in the ozone layer. Of course she'd seen that vulnerability in a technical sense already, when the other woman had been bleeding and broken in her presence, but there were still barbed fences up all around that. And the fact that she'd only seen the 'real' Bianca - the one that she let the rest of the world see - in pictures had created this strange suspended reality; given her this odd idol-esque nature. There was something about her that made Courtney itch to get her hands on her - smudge the lipstick, let down the hair; maybe once she made a mess of it all, she'd see the woman behind the force of nature. 

Courtney was slapped out of her train of thought by the noise of a key turning in a lock - accompanied by muffled cursing and what sounded like barking. She smiled a little at this, looking at the floor - before the door opened, making her jump a little - smoothing back her hair and looking to Bianca's half-smirking face, lips painted a glossy burgundy red and dimples deep in her cheeks.   
"Hi."  
"God, I can't believe we're doing this," Bianca scoffed a little, stifling a laugh, putting her body between the crack in the door and the hall. "You'd best get in here - I've got two dogs going batshit behind me, and if they escape I'm not running after them." The sardonic quip made Courtney giggle, hiding her mouth demurely with a hand - Bianca reversing somewhat shakily as Courtney entered, shutting the door behind her.   
"What is there not to believe? We're grown women, we can do whatever we want, right?" Bianca turned away from her to lock the door again; Courtney noticed the subtle roll of the eyes, the stifled laugh badly concealed by a cough. "I mean, my girlfriends won't let me hear the end of this, but still."

"Girlfriends?" She raised an eyebrow, limping her way back through to the living room and indicating with a hand that Courtney should follow. Her decor was oddly sparse when compared to the woman's somewhat extravagant dress sense - whilst not quite gaudy, 'subtle' evidently didn't exist in Bianca's vocabulary if her choice of earrings and the height of her hair was much to go on - dark grey walls and wooden floors, veneered black furniture - it could have been an IKEA showroom were it not for the crap accumulating over every available surface; half-empty handbags and odd shoes scattered down the hall - a pile of magazines here, a bolt of fabric there.  
"Girl-friends. Friends that are girls." Courtney clarified, giving a nervous laugh through her teeth; hovering at the doorway as Bianca sat down, sighing a little and trying to hide it.   
"Right. I was gonna say - I've got no interest in being part of a harem." A ghost of a smile danced about her lips; gesturing for Courtney to come in - the blonde too absorbed in nosing around the room from her position, glued to the doorframe. It was oddly cozy in the way that only inner-city housing can be, a tiny room packed with furniture that would comfortably fill a space twice the size - TV mounted to one wall, sofa shoved up against the other; and a similar selection of odd bits and pieces occupying the totality of the available floor space. "Come sit - you look completely fucking lost over there. If I'd known I was inviting you over so you could just stand in the corner staring into space like the Jason fucking Voorhies, I wouldn't have bothered." Courtney gave a tentative smile, scanning the room before opting to plant herself right next to Bianca - the other woman once again laughing tentatively, looking away from her.   
"Well, this is cozy."  
"It's a dump - I've got a magpie complex, twice the amount of stuff that I probably need, and a quarter of the space that I'd need to fit it all. There's hardly room to move in here."  
"I like it," Courtney said declaratively, holding a pillow on her lap and folding her legs under her with a pert smile. "You feeling any better?"  
"Not in the slightest," Bianca scoffed, her fingernails having suddenly having become very interesting as she studied them, again entirely avoiding Courtney's gaze. It was kind of cute, actually - her sudden shyness, if it was shyness at all. But there was nothing really aloof or superior about it as there had been last time; there would be a blush visible if she hadn't been caked in foundation.   
"I mean, you're not looking half-bad." She gestured to her face; Bianca rolling her eyes again.   
"I'm glad you think so." She raised an eyebrow, scathing of the other woman's approval. "My good friend Anastasia Beverly Hills is mostly to thank for that. Concealer covers a multitude of sins. And road rash." Courtney gave a coquettish little laugh at this, eliciting a smile from Bianca's previously stony face. She'd gone quiet as discussion had turned once again to the accident; Courtney having found herself trying to read the messy doodles adorning her cast, and failing to decipher most of them. Snapping out of it, she pulled her purse onto her lap, looking to Bianca until the brunette turned to meet her gaze.   
"So, I didn't want to turn up empty-handed, and I didn't think that my driver would appreciate me trailing Chinese or whatever in with me and stinking his car out, so-" she produced a pink and black box and a wine bottle from her bag; Bianca's face picking up somewhat. "I figured cupcakes and rosé would be a happy medium - hope you don't mind." Bianca smiled at this, clearly holding back; trying to hide something, unwilling to entirely let loose yet. Courtney opened the box up, putting the bottle down on the coffee table. "They're from this cute little vegan place I found on Greene Avenue - I had you pegged as a red velvet kinda gal." She gave another little smirk at this. "Did I guess right?"  
"Half marks ain't bad - you missed me big-style on the booze. I'm not drinking right now, and even if I was, I don't buy into all that Sauvignon whatever-the-fuck pretentious bullshit."  
"It's Zinfandel, actually," Courtney corrected with a laugh, licking frosting off of her index finger with a flirtatious smile on her face, her tongue just peeking out from her mouth. "And why the dry spell? Seems kinda boring."  
"Codeine and alcohol aren't friends," she explained. "It's your fucking fault - trust me, some hard liquor would make this whole experience so much more bearable."  
"Oh, come on - loosen your corset a little, you're a grown-up. Do what you want!"  
"I tried that already and I regret everything. I had a couple of friends over last night, was driven to drink by the two of them, as per - I was in bits after one glass, got about three hours of sleep, on the couch - _bad_ idea. Woke up feeling like I was gonna die." She paused, a smile on her face as she side-eyed Courtney. "And lo and behold, here I am doing it again. Apparently I don't learn, ever."   
"I won't pressure you, don't worry. I mean, if you're not participating then I suppose it's just more for me. Your loss." Courtney grinned, grabbing the bottle, twisting the cap off, and taking a long drink straight from it.   
"Fucking animal," Bianca muttered under her breath, chuckling. "I'll take the cupcake, though - god, it matches those." She gestured to the flowers as Courtney handed her the cake, drinking again. "You've really got me pegged to a colour scheme, don't you?"  
"You're wearing burgundy, _again_ \- so far you're yet to prove me wrong." Bianca shot her a withering look - although she clearly saw some of the truth in it, another faint glimmer of a smile in her brown eyes. "Besides, it reminded me of your hair." Courtney ran her fingers through the ends of Bianca's ponytail; the other woman twitching away momentarily, looking at her scathingly, before giving in. Courtney had been thinking a lot about that damn hair - sleek and thick, a natural bounce of curl at the ends; a gorgeous, rich dark auburn - a sheen of deep red to it in the light. Part of it was envy - the rest just pure lust. Her fingers in Bianca's hair was a reaffirmation that she was real - that she wasn't as mechanical as it seemed she wanted to appear. 

"This was just a happy accident." She tossed her hair over one shoulder, taking a small bite of the cupcake and wiping the frosting off of her cheek with her thumb. Courtney bit her lip - something oddly seductive about the action. "I tried to go blonde, the whole experience totally went to shit - my hair turned orange, I tried to dye it back to my natural colour, and this happened."  
"It's adorable - super unique. Though I can't see you as a blonde, personally."  
"Really?"   
"Mmh-hmm - there's a certain allure that comes with it, only us naturals can pull it off." Courtney smirked, tucking her bangs behind one ear with flourish of the wrist. Bianca raised an eyebrow.   
"Yeah, sure - because everything about this is completely 'natural'." She picked up the end of one of Courtney's braids, swatting it at her face.   
"Y'know, I think I'd like you better if you were pissed - you sure you don't want some of this?" She offered the wine bottle in her direction, Bianca pushing her away with one hand, the other cupped under her chin in an attempt to catch any stray crumbs as she stifled a laugh with her mouth full.   
"No thanks - it's probably 80% backwash by now, not interested." Courtney laughed, plucking the gummy watermelon slice from the top of her own cupcake and nibbling at a corner. 

They'd spoken through text as though they'd known each other forever, and that same sorority and honesty was present now - only within one another's physical presence, the insults were less cutting; the admittance to weakness met with caring, a hand on the shoulder or knee, and a sympathetic look. Without the veil of a screen, Bianca's polished exterior, and Courtney's infallible perfectness seemed to melt away. Courtney started to pick up on Bianca loosening her shoulders; meeting her gaze, letting herself laugh and smile and pull herself closer - showing emotion. And as Courtney let her guard down, the plastic doll facade went with it - her laughs became less put-on, her smiles more genuine; she'd throw her head back and cackle in a distinctly unladylike way - slouching and swearing and seeming to come into her own - to become something besides the untouchable perfection that she tried so hard to exude. 

As much as she saw her trying to resist, Courtney found a way of getting Bianca to speak about herself - she'd talked about her last few weeks, the people around her, her job; little superficial things without much effort by Courtney. There was a sensitivity that came through once she got her on about her own life. She was Latina - Cuban on one side, Honduran on the other - born and bred in New Orleans, having found her way to New York through no real effort or willingness on her part, thanks to Katrina. She'd made a half-assed attempt at making it as an actress in her early twenties, before giving up in the interest of being able to afford to eat, going instead into the costume industry. She'd come out as gay when she was seventeen; half of her family didn't talk to her any more, but by her description: 'none of the important ones give a fuck, so I don't care.' She was a seamstress, and a damn good one at that - she'd apparently made the shirt she was wearing (Courtney admitting then that she didn't really know how to thread a needle, forget garment construction.) And so it went on, Courtney smiling and listening intently once she eventually got her talking. It was odd for once to not be the one carrying the conversation - and to not be the talking point - but pleasant at the same time. Just being around her at all was overwhelming and beautiful all at the same time, and she found herself almost scared by the notion of how much she cared for her; unused to any emotion towards those who she attempted to pursue besides pure, unadulterated lust. This was different - it was unfamiliar, and she couldn't tell whether or not she hated it. 

"So," Courtney said as the conversation had began to trail off - Bianca looking somewhat blankly at the opposite wall, a ghost of a smile lingering on her mouth. The wine was half-gone now, all of it down Courtney's throat. She had one dog sleeping on her lap, the other at Bianca's feet (she'd explained who was who, but Courtney couldn't really remember) and it had long since gotten dark outside; the two cozied up to one another, Courtney's hand resting lightly on Bianca's thigh. They'd progressively grown closer and closer as the minutes wore into hours, not questioning a thing. "Who's Katya?"

At this, Bianca seemed to stiffen; straightening her back, her lips pursing before turning down into a small frown, looking away momentarily, glancing out of the window. Fuck. It seemed in that moment that the room grew colder; every part of Bianca's body surging with electricity, spiking up out of sheer fear that somebody was getting in amongst her without her permission. 

"Katya?" Bianca cleared her throat a little, wringing her hands as she toyed with the red and silver cocktail ring on her middle finger. "She's just some ex."  
"Just?"  
"Okay, ex of three and a half years who left me kind of out of the blue." Her lips pursed again as she stopped talking, pausing for thought - letting out a tiny sigh through her nose. "It was like a year ago, though. I'm over it."  
"Doesn't seem like it."  
She gave a tight-lipped smile, glancing from Courtney to the hand that she had placed on her leg, giving a little shrug. "I don't know. I tell myself I am, but...I kind of...gave up after the whole thing. On love, I mean."  
"I'm sorry - I shouldn't have-"  
"Nah, it's fine..." she waved her off. "I just...I really cared about her. I mean, obviously I did. And I don't know how or where the hell I'll find something like that again, and...well, what's the point? You get to a certain age and you start to think that if love hasn't found you already then looking for it is a waste of time. I've got other priorities - work, my friends, my dogs. Loving someone doesn't pay your bills or anything, it's just something extra. Fuck love, it doesn't matter."  
"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but that all sounds very scripted. If it's actually how you think, you might want to let your face know about it." Courtney tucked a stray hair behind her ear, her brow pinched and mouth downturned and serious.   
"I told myself that I was gonna cash out of the dating game once I hit forty if I hadn't already found someone, and...well, I'm forty-one next June, so I guess I'm just gonna die alone." She shrugged a little, blasé in a sort of put-on, resigned manner. 

"Life doesn't stop at forty. If it does, I've only got five years left, and I've got _way_ more living to do than I can fit into that amount of time." Courtney smiled a little, inching closer to her - the soft, delicately curved musculature of Bianca's form pressed to her; thighs touching, Courtney's shoulder nestled against her arm. "Besides - what's to say that there's not somebody else out there?"  
"What's to say there is?"  
"I don't know - she might be closer than you think..."   
"I- do you mean..."

Bianca turned to her, stack-jawed and half-speechless, stammering without direction before receding into silence - surprise and quiet elation radiating from her like sunlight from parting clouds, the rest of her emotions impossible to gauge. Courtney briefly glancing down before picking her head up to match Bianca's gaze - chartreuse meeting pools of dark chocolate - and holding it there for a soundless minute that lasted half a century - neither wanting to break the silence, neither sure what exactly to say, but both swallowing back words from the tips of their tongues. Courtney's hands found themselves wandering of their own accord from Bianca's thigh to her shoulder - to cupping the side of her beautiful, battered face - broken skin and the violet blossom of a bruise visible beneath Courtney's thumb, her touch moth-light. And then Bianca's own hands wandered to her waist, her arm, her cheek - the distance between them minute - and Courtney's were caressing her neck, and in that beautiful russet crown hair - slow, gentle movements; exploratory rather than hungry, wandering without destination - just craving the contact of the other. 

And the brunette finally bridged the gap between them both, those ruby lips crashing against Courtney's; parting gently, plush and silky against pale skin. Courtney opened her mouth to her, tasting frosting and lipstick, the hotness of Bianca's body pressed so close to hers radiating throughout her. 

There were fireworks behind her eyes, and she felt as though she was being electrocuted in the best way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I lied. This is gonna be a long one I think. Whatever. Finally - they met, all is good with the world. Who knows what'll happen next?...


	6. Chapter 6

As they broke away, Bianca blinked slowly - slack-jawed, her entire body feeling pins and needles - electrified and stunned and ecstatic all at once, and yet at the same time almost _angry_ at how inside her mind she'd let the other woman get; how much her guard had dropped without her permission. She was fucked off and fucking exhilarated all at the same time, and as she looked at Courtney's face - her expression serene, blonde hair falling into her face in ashen trails, Bianca's lipstick smudged all over her face, a blood-stained trail of the path her lips had taken - suddenly nothing else mattered; the only two people in the world were sitting in that room, and one of them had her hand buried in Bianca's hair, and her legs neatly tucked under her, and a relaxed, lopsided smile on her face. 

"You're so fucking beautiful," Bianca said quietly, still holding Courtney close to her despite having pulled her face away. "And I absolutely hate you for it."  
"Tinder be damned. Apparently driving like an arsehole and resting on pretty can get you places after all." She grinned, resting her head on Bianca's shoulder, wrestling with her hairtie until it eventually gave out, Bianca's curls cascading down over her shoulders in an unbroken silky wave - the headscarf being pulled off not long after and discarded on the table; Bianca side-eyeing her.   
"You're quite intense - I'm not a fucking fidget toy."  
"I just...I was wondering how you'd look," Courtney said, giving a smile. "Y'know, the real you. You're stunning - seeing you all polished is nice, but I...well, I just think there's something really sexy about a girl once you get her all hot and bothered and messed-up. And I wasn't sure if I could make you more sexy - I was wrong." Bianca gave a soft smile, her mind and eyes going immediately to Courtney's own form. She was physically tiny - a real Instagram body; arms and legs statuesque and sculpted, the delicate musculature of her stomach just peeking out from the crop-top; peachy ass and perky boobs - there was no way in hell she was wearing a bra with that shirt, if you could even call it a shirt to begin with. Everything about her was ravishing in the simplest sense - a perfect Hollywood bombshell. Never usually her type, at all. But something in Courtney had her drawn to her, and stuck on her.   
"Was whatever the fuck I looked like last time you saw me not 'unpolished' enough for you?"  
"Nah, that was 'polished, just covered in blood and a bit battered' - you're really pretty." Courtney mused emphatically, glancing up at the ceiling and twirling her braid around her finger again; arm now draped around Bianca's shoulders. She'd hardly stopped touching her all night - she'd noticed that. Always a hand somewhere - it had started out with a light touch of an arm or a knee, slowly gravitating elsewhere - not in a way which implied more sinister intentions, but just a demonstration of their closeness increasing - Bianca no longer stiffening up under her hands.   
"I guess I could say the same about you." She smirked, a small laugh escaping her as Courtney blushed, shaking her head. "Though if I were you I'd navigate a wipe around my face before I drank any more of that wine - you look like you've been in a damn pie-eating contest, and if you get wasted and walk out of here looking like that you'll make a complete fool of both of us. I mean, my neighbours think I'm a fucking freak show as is."  
"It's your fault for wearing so much fucking lipstick."  
"You were the one throwing yourself at me - you knew what you signed up for." She grinned, Courtney leaning in and placing a playful kiss on her cheek - she turned her head, and soon enough what remained of her lipstick was smeared across Courtney's cheeks and neck - along with a mark or two that probably wouldn't wipe off as easily. 

Courtney sat up as Bianca sank into the second round of affections; on her knees, straddling Bianca's legs and pressing their bodies together, cupping the other woman's face between her hands and feeling Bianca sink her fingers into her thighs, pulling her closer still. Bianca gave a soft moan, half pleasure and half pain - a jarring ache having arisen in her shin from moving too much. Courtney rested her elbows on Bianca's shoulders, her hands interlocked behind the other woman's head, trails of the burgundy silk of Bianca's loose hair snaking around her arms; lowering her body, grinding her hips against Bianca's; she murmured incoherently at this, her hands now resting on Courtney's ass. Courtney pushed against her, pillowy breasts pressing against her body; aware of nothing but Bianca's teeth softly biting on her lip, the playfulness of Bianca's wandering hands - nothing seemed to matter in that moment except for Bianca. 

Without thinking, Courtney found herself reaching for the zip at the back of Bianca's blouse - a sort of wine-red cowlneck number with half-sleeves; all too caught-up in the moment to bother about any consequence. She became aware of the slight murmurs of protest; not registering them fully until she felt Bianca's hands leave her body and gently trying to restrain her own, and she pulled away, feeling a pang of guilt in her stomach. 

"Shit- I'm sorry. I-"  
Bianca shook her head, a gentle smile on her face; Courtney breathed a small sigh of relief, sure that the other woman had been about to rip her head off. "It's fine - heat of the moment, whatever. I've been there. Just...not tonight. You're a lovely girl, but I...I'm really not up for that right now, what with all of...this." She gestured to her body, laughing a little. "And besides - you've been drinking, it's not right. Last thing I want is you waking up next to me and wandering what the fuck was going through your head the night before to fuck this mess."  
Courtney blushed, still sitting on Bianca's lap, looking away. "Well, I'm miffed, but I can't say it isn't nice to have somebody looking out for me." She smiled; Bianca's dimples on show again, her eyes downturned and shy. She stood up, gathering her things from around the room. "That said, it's getting late, and I...I'm not a fan of walking around by myself at night. I think I'd better go." Bianca's nod was barely noticeable, but knowing and solemn. "To be continued?"  
"Sure." Bianca smirked, readjusting herself before reaching down to pick up her crutches. "If you're leaving me, then at least let me show you out." She rose shakily to her feet; stumbling a little, Courtney catching her by her forearm and steadying her. Bianca placed a hand atop the one touching her, smiling and murmuring a thanks - as though she hadn't already been through her full range of emotions trying to figure out what exactly this girl made her feel, she was now almost saddened by the realisation that their time together was ending - Cinderella leaving the ball; disappearing into the night, possibly never to be seen again. It was like waking up in the middle of a good dream - but Bianca had literally never felt less down for sex in her entire life, and when she coupled that with Courtney's mild intoxication - she was coherent, but starting to slur her words and fumble; too much for Bianca to be able to fuck her and still feel good about herself afterwards, especially since she was stone-cold sober. The way that the night had been going, sex had felt like the imminent outcome, and that would have only led to regrets for both parties in the morning. 

Standing by the door; Courtney just outside, both unwilling to say the last word, both stuttering and awkward despite the last few hours spent wrapped in one another.   
"So, I'll see you again?"  
"Of course." Courtney flashed that million-dollar smile, her face radiant; hair mussed and a fine mist of sweat at her brow. Even when she was a hot mess she was still damn hot. Bitch. "Your place or mine?"   
"Depends on whether or not I've gotten rid of the damn cast by then." She gave a small chuckle; Courtney seeming to recall something in that moment, digging in her bag and withdrawing a Sharpie.   
"Oh, that reminds me!" She crouched, signing her name on Bianca's cast underneath Bunny's obscene graffiti, enclosed in a heart. Bianca chuckled, Courtney bobbing up again and placing her hands on Bianca's waist. "Objective fulfilled. That's like half the reason I came here."  
"Oh, now you tell me," she said, smirking. "So, is this goodnight for real this time?" Courtney nodded, leaning in again for another kiss; Bianca only held this one for a moment or two, before letting her go; Courtney reversing into the hall, holding off for as long as she could before she had to turn away.   
"See ya, B."   
Bianca smiled, waving after her as she walked away.   
"Just don't bring fucking rosé next time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bianca's hatred of rosé wine brought to you courtesy of the Rolodex of Hate trailer


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some platonic Biadore fluff just to lighten the mood. I love the relationship between these two so much it kills me ^_^

"Okay, I'm confused." Adore furrowed her brow, pausing to shovel another forkful of pancakes into her mouth, before continuing whilst still chewing. "What the fuck happened again?"  
"Okay, so she shows up practically unannounced at my place with cupcakes and booze - we stay up til midnight just talking, I came like _this_ close to fucking her, and then my conscience got the better of me because she'd been drinking and I hadn't - plus I realised that it wouldn't be worth spending the next week in agony; it still hurts to fucking move. Then she fucks off again, and now she won't answer my texts. I'm as confused as you are, and usually that's saying something." Bianca took a sip of her coffee, appetite practically not there as she picked disinterestedly at her cinnamon roll.  
"Fuck all the way off." Adore curled her lip, laughing. The mermaid-haired younger woman was dressed like she'd just rolled out of a dumpster - leather trench, cut-off shorts, and Marlboro Reds t-shirt that was eight sizes too big - at least - complimented by a choker that Bianca was sure was supposed to be a dog collar, and fishnets that were more hole than fishnet. She was a hot fucking mess, as per usual - though the same hot-mess description could be attributed to Bianca too, though in a slightly different way. Flat shoes, sweatpants, and hoodies were three things she usually wouldn't be caught dead wearing in public, but she was having to make an exception - Adore had pretty much shown up without warning and kidnapped her at ten that morning because she'd decided that she wanted to go out for breakfast; Laganja was halfway across the city in some dude's apartment, and Joslyn had quite adroitly told her to go fuck herself, citing that any time before noon was too early to even be conscious, forget about eating. Bianca had been halfway through putting her makeup on - it had been a hard sell convincing Adore to wait thirty seconds to let her fill in her other eyebrow. At least the worst of the damage to her face was concealed. "So, what are you gonna do?"  
"I don't know, that's the problem."  
"Are you gonna do anything?" Adore looked at her, suddenly dead serious.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Well, do you think she's worth a fight? Or is it just cause she's...y'know, interested?"  
"I don't really know. Like, she's pretty - she's funny. I like her. But it's been three days at least, and I've not heard shit from her. Either she's dead, or she's just come to her senses."  
"The fuck are you talking about, coming to her senses? You're a fucking goddess, bitch - you know if you weren't old enough to be my mama then I would."  
"Oh sure, if I'd given birth at twelve. First of all, I'm not that old, and secondly, don't be disgusting. You're not my type, anyway."  
"You said that about Katya, and look where you wound up."  
"Low blow, Ms Delano." Bianca raised an eyebrow, Adore disintegrating into giggles with her face in her hands. "Anyway - Courtney."  
"Maybe she just doesn't want to annoy you?"  
"She knows I've got nothing better to do with my life right now." Bianca scoffed with a roll of the eyes. "Besides - it's not like I've been blanking her too. She knows I'm still interested. I mean, you did say she isn't really one for morning-after etiquette."  
"That was kinda my fault - I forgot to text back, I was still drunk when I woke up."  
"God, you're such a fucking mushroom - your ability to just sit and let shit happen around you astonishes me."  
"Oh, you're too kind."  
"So, how the hell do I go about winning her over, then?"  
"I'm not fucking telling you," Adore huffed, sitting up and folding her legs; trying to make it seem as though she was sulking with Bianca, before noticing the whipped cream on the side of her hand and going to lick it off. "Bea, every time you get with someone, you forget about me. I'm not just gonna sign up for another three years of getting blanked."  
"You're acting like a toddler. I don't 'forget about you', I-"  
"Sorry, Adore, can't come for drinks tonight, I'm hanging out with Katya. Yeah, can't be fucked going to the movies with you, I was out with Katya last night. Y'know I'm not even gonna try and make an excuse, I'm just blowing you off so I can fuck Katya. Katya, Katya, Katya, blah fuckin blah." Adore's voice had dropped about three octaves in a gravelly parody of Bianca's voice, hands flailing and eyes rolling back into her head on the last sentence. Bianca laughed, throwing a poorly-aimed slap in Adore's direction, just managing to skiff her tattooed bicep.  
"First of all, bitch - I'm from New Orleans, not Brooklyn. That accent was a mess. Secondly I do not 'blow you off' whenever I get with somebody." Bianca placed the parroted phrase in a gesture of ersatz quotes, rolling her eyes. "I mean, how do you think I feel when I hear you going on about Laganja this, Laganja that - you know I hate the cunt. Don't dish it out if you can't take it."  
"What did Ganj-ganj ever do to you?"  
"The girl's got the worst victim complex of anyone I've ever met, and her voice pisses me off. Next question." Bianca rolled her eyes as she sipped her coffee, Adore cleaning excess syrup off of her empty plate with a finger, side-eyeing Bianca's barely-touched cinnamon roll.  
"Are you gonna eat that?"  
"You're far too skinny to eat like you do, your fucking legs must be hollow," Bianca muttered brusquely, eyes rolling again as she pushed her plate in Adore's direction.  
"Well, you can't really joke about yours being wooden any more - now there's like, definite proof that that's a lie."  
"Oh, ha ha." Bianca pursed her lips, eyebrow raised. "Okay, humour me. Do you think I should give it a shot with Courtney or not?"  
"No."  
"Okay - say it wasn't Courtney. Different person, same personality. Then what?"  
"I don't know shit about her personality - I just fucked her."  
"Exactly!"  
"I was fucking drunk - all I know is she shops at Victoria's Secret and she smells nice." Bianca put her head in her hands, chuckling. "Right, fine. Pros and cons."  
"Okay, pros - one, she does theatre. So that's something we've got in common." Adore nodded a little, too absorbed in her thieved second breakfast. "Two - she's pretty, she's got a good body, all the usual crap."  
"Don't fucking objectify her."  
"Oh shut up, hog-body." Adore's jaw dropped, a look of mock-offence plastered across her face. "Three - good sense of humour. Four - she drives a nice car, or at least she did until I broke the windshield with my ass, so she's probably got money. Five - doesn't mind the dogs - but she kept calling them the wrong names, which I don't know how to feel about." Adore pursed her lips, shaking her head.  
"Nope, unacceptable. I won't have anyone disrespecting my godchildren like that."  
"Six - her accent is kinda cute."  
"Okay, cons?"  
"...Maybe the accent, actually - it gets annoying after a while."  
"Anything else?"  
"Well, I think she said she was vegan. That might be-"  
"Ew no - annoying. That's a fucking deal breaker."  
"You're a vegetarian." Bianca was deadpan at this, looking quizzically at Adore with her brow furrowed.  
"Yeah, but vegans are all annoying twats," Adore whined, rolling her eyes. "Are you done yet, or do I have to listen to more shit about my replacement?"  
"She's not fucking replacing you, chill out." Bianca huffed a sigh, half-laughing. "You're such a drama queen."  
"Fine," Adore huffed, folding her arms and pouting. "Look, do what you want. I'm not helping you."  
"Aww, is someone having a little temper tantrum?" Bianca cooed; Adore pulling her shoulders up higher and sticking her bottom lip out further, trying not to laugh.  
"No."  
"Sure?"

Adore half-glared at Bianca, the older woman smiling pertly from behind her coffee cup. Maybe Adore did have a point - but then again, she was also needy as shit, so why did it matter? Her mind was mostly made up - she just had needed to clarify with somebody else that she wasn't being crazy, and Adore's resistance had solidified the fact; if she'd thought it was totally unattainable and ridiculous then she wouldn't be making such a fuss. Truth was, she didn't really want to commit how she felt about Courtney to words, because that would be making it real. Their meeting circumstances had been obscene at best; but then again, around Courtney, Bianca felt more herself than she did at any other time. She wasn't afraid to be open with her - she'd catch herself doing it and resist every so often, but somehow she'd found herself admitting to things that she probably wouldn't have told Adore, or even Jackie or Bunny, and they'd been a trio since the Stone Age. It was scary - Courtney seemed to have the power to get inside her mind; gut, skin, and fillet her without her even noticing, and the thing was Bianca didn't hate her for it. Maybe what had brought them together was just kismet - maybe the whole thing was meant to be. Cheesy and disgusting as the sentiment itself was, it did almost make sense. But if they were destined to be soulmates, then surely Courtney would have answered her fucking phone by now?

"I fucking wish Courtney hadn't braked so hard." Adore snapped her back to reality - a coy, lopsided smirk on her face, and frosting at the corners of her mouth. Bianca smiled back sweetly, kicking her half-heartedly under the table with her good leg.  
"You know you love me."


	8. Chapter 8

"And then I kind of just left, and I feel really shitty, but I'm so embarrassed, and I can't- Jinkx, wake up."  
"Mmh...what?" The redhead half-looked up at Courtney, from her position slumped on the floor against the leg of a table - eyes half-open and hair in disarray, sticking out in every direction from underneath her beanie. Another one of about eleven or twelve bored, tired chorus girls not in that particular scene, the duo had been left to stagnate backstage as the rest of the cast went over 'Land of Lola' yet again - half-asleep and dishevelled from the seven o'clock start. Courtney was cross-legged on the tabletop, coffee in hand - her hair tied into two messy buns at either side of her head, dressed in an oversized hoodie and workout leggings, not a stitch of makeup on her face; looking more or less like she'd rolled out of bed five minutes ago. Apparently this was the case for Jinkx too, and she'd apparently neglected to wake up before doing so - the other woman dozing off now for the third time, despite Courtney's rambling nineteen to the dozen about her woes over Bianca. "Could you repeat that? I wasn't listening."   
"No shit, Shirley." Courtney laughed. "I just...I dunno, Jinkxy. I mean, it was a weird starting point for a relationship to begin with, and now I know for a fact that I took things too far and got ahead of myself, and I just can't bring myself to say anything to her. What if she hates me?"  
"How many times did you say she'd texted you in the last few days?" Jinkx looked at her quizzically, one eyebrow raised as she pushed her hair from her face.   
"I dunno - a few. Definitely more than once a day."  
"Well, there's your answer. She can't be that mad at you." 

"I just...argh..." Courtney groaned, head in her hands, half-laughing to detract from the fact that she wanted to cry. "Jesus, I just feel so fucking stupid. I was drunk - I'd been out with friends beforehand and I had like three cocktails, then I sank half a bottle of wine at hers, and I did what I always do and got too fucking handsy and pushed the boundaries - she's gonna think I'm a sloppy mess."  
"Courtney, you ran her over. I think all judgements were made a while ago."   
"True, but still. Why am I such a fucking moron?..."  
"Look, I bet she's forgotten all about it. Water-"

"Jinkx, I swear to god, if the next words out of your mouth are 'water off a duck's back' then I will kill you." Jinkx went quiet for a moment, chuckling to herself.   
"She's not gonna care. I mean, she clearly doesn't care to the point that she's still messaging you, so what more do you want?"  
"Truthfully? I have no idea." Courtney gave a wry smile, looking out at the backstage chaos, glittery costumes and other detritus all around them.

Truth was, Courtney had been up practically all night tying herself in knots about the whole awful mess. Sure, she'd almost definitely made it worse in her own head - but she couldn't stop replaying the image of Bianca's hands grabbing at hers, or the discomfort on her face, in her head over and over like a broken video tape. Guilt was top of the list - letting herself get so messy around her, and forgetting any and all manners that she'd previously possessed. She had wanted so badly to impress her that it almost physically hurt, and even that paled when she compared it to the ache of the knowledge that she might've already broken whatever minimal shot at a relationship they had to begin with. 

"...Do you think I should say something?" Courtney eventually piped up again after a long silent spell, studying her nails again - Jinkx seeming to be once again hovering on the verge of sleep. Oh the joys associated with being friends with a narcoleptic - their chats backstage had a tendency to be limited, what with Jinkx almost never being fully present.   
"Why are you even asking me that? Of course."   
"Well, I...it makes me really nervous. She's so...perfect. And I- well, I'm scared to lose her."   
"Surely 'perfect' and 'losing her' have gotta be a stretch? You've known her for a week."  
"But, y'know, when you know...you know. Y'know?"  
"No, I don't know."   
"God, Jinkx, you don't understand...she's like the most beautiful woman I've ever met in my life, in her own way, and I...I don't know how to describe it. She's got a great smile, and these fucking adorable dimples, and I am absolutely in _love_ with her hair, oh my god. I just-"  
"Calm down, sweetie - you sound like you're about to explode."  
"Well, maybe I am!" Courtney unfolded her legs, nonchalantly swinging her legs off the edge of the table, inadvertently kicking Jinkx in the head in the process; the other woman reeling forward away from her, hand clasping the point of contact, scowling up at Courtney's smirking face. "Maybe I am gonna fucking explode, and who the hell cares?"  
"I believe the word you're looking for is 'sorry', Ms Jenek."   
"If you have to tell me to say it, that means it's not sincere, so why bother?"  
"You're such a dick."

  
"Seriously, though - she's got the best sense of humour, and she's really sweet; plus she's got two dogs and they're fucking adorable. I just can't. I mean, she scares the ever-loving fuck out of me, but in a good way. And like, when we kissed it felt like...it felt like it meant something, y'know?" She sighed wistfully. "I felt like we really connected..." Her tone dropped at this, voice having taken a turn for the sombre and morose. "...and now I've gone and fucked it up."   
"You're avoiding this on purpose," Jinkx said, getting up to sit by her side. "That's what you do - if you think something might not go right, you just don't bother with it. It's annoying as fuck. Just get on with it - if you think you've got something with her, then go rescue it while it's still smouldering. And if you're not gonna do that, then shut up. I'm sick of hearing about it now."  
"You really think I should?"  
"This isn't a rom-com, Court. It's a lot more straightforward than you're making out." Jinkx smiled a little bit, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging her legs, contentedly rocking back and forth a little. "Not everything has to be a fucking drama."

"Says you," Courtney elbowed her, laughing - affecting a gritty American accent and flailing her hands in a ridiculous hyperbolic parody of Jinkx. " _Oh my gaaawd, Courtney, I think I've met the love of my life on Tinder - we connected, she's the only person who's truly understood me, I think she's the one._ " She was silenced by Jinkx punching her in the arm, trying not to laugh. "How's tricks with you and Ivy anyway?"  
Jinkx gave a tight-lipped smile. "We had our fifth date a few nights ago, but she's been kind of...funny about making more plans. It's like she's avoiding me or something. Maybe you're right, I think I laid it on a bit thick." She shrugged. "Oh well, she clearly doesn't absolutely hate me yet. Y'know, the conventional date approach seems to be working quite well - maybe you two should try it sometime."  
"Okay, the other night was an exception - she said she didn't want to have to leave her house. But I...do you think I should ask her?"  
"If you're asking me, that usually means you've made your mind up. Just bite the fucking bullet, Courtney. Carpe diem or whatever." 

Courtney went quiet at this, turning the possibilities over in her mind. She was angry with herself - it was almost as though she was trying to project that anger onto Bianca, and when the brunette had kept persevering despite it all, it had frustrated her. If it had been Bianca who was pissed off with her, then that would have given her some control over the whole shitty situation. She was fully aware that she was grabbing at straws, trying to make a big deal out of nothing to avoid having to take a look at the real punchline - she was nervous. She was noticing herself genuinely starting to feel for Bianca, and that wasn't okay on a multitude of levels. For one, it was just odd - whilst to begin with, the circumstances surrounding their relationship had been weird for an hour and then she'd gotten over it, she was starting to think on it more and more, and it was worrying her. Very few marriages are founded on vehicular assault. And entirely on the other hand, Courtney didn't fall for people. She had no idea when she'd last fucked out of love, or even if she ever had at all. Willam, maybe - but that was high school, and who the hell knows what love is at seventeen and a half? They'd fucked in his car after drama practice, and then he'd dumped her two months down the line, a day before her birthday; no real amour in sight there besides the vague attraction that she'd misidentified as true love in her diary. She didn't give a shit about who she took to bed. or where she got her action just as long as she got it from somewhere - shameless destroyer of the hearts of men, women, and anything in between. 

But Bianca had stuck out - Courtney wanted to possess her; to own her. She wanted everyone in the world to see her mark on her and for them to know that it was she who had tamed that statuesque, marvellous creature - and at the same time, she felt the exact opposite emotion in equal measure; she wanted to curl up at her feet and worship. But between that, there was a desire for emotional closeness; she wanted to know about her, and watch her smile and laugh; to see Bianca lying by her side when she woke up in the morning just as much as she wanted her body. If not, more. It was confusing as fuck, and she couldn't tell if she resented it or not. She was in love with Bianca Haylock.

Or at least, she thought so.


	9. Chapter 9

This was becoming a bit of a joke. Bianca perched on the stool in front of her vanity, working the tangles out of the ends of her her wet hair with her fingers, the screen of her phone staring back up at her from the table, blank and mocking. The whole thing was just getting disheartening above all else; the knowledge that Courtney had seen every message and blanked her even so. Regardless of Adore's protesting, maybe what she'd said earlier was right. Maybe she'd just come to her senses after all. Courtney was definitely pretty enough to get whoever the hell she wanted; and what did she really have tying her to Bianca, anyway? It was the prefect scenario for a flash-in-the-pan romance; if she didn't want to, she never had to see her again. She lived halfway across the city, they had limited to no professional ties (sure, Bianca's team had worked in conjunction with the company that Courtney was performing with before, but they almost never had anything to do with the actors themselves, particularly not the ensemble cast or understudies; simply being given measurements and told to figure it out.) If she was fed up with her, then she could just cut ties and move along without batting an eyelid. Bianca let out a soft sigh, towelling off her hair again before picking up her brush. 

It was all a bit ironic, in a highly sadistic sense - upon their meeting, she hadn't wanted a thing to do with her. And now where was she but tearing herself to shreds over their lack of contact. She'd had to stop herself from sending another message about six times in the last hour - better to be moping in secret than piss the other woman off and hurt her chances any more. She felt a bit pathetic - stringing along despite everything that was going on; that funny honey. And if she was continuing on the Chicago theme, then Lord knows she didn't got the smarts either, that was for fucking certain. 

She felt stupid, just to add to the pile. She knew it had been a mistake - she knew that letting herself get this attached had been an utterly ludicrous idea. The heart wants what it wants, sure - but she'd been allowing her heart to guide her hand, and clearly that had been a shitty idea. Wearing it on her sleeve had never been Bianca's deal - so much for letting it show; be more vulnerable, people will like you more. Bullshit. She put her hairbrush down - very conscious of the wet patch on the back of her grey tank top from her hair, but getting the blow-dryer would involve standing up, and she still wasn't great at that. Too much effort. Staring into the mirror somewhat blankly, she took in the changes to her face since a week ago, when it had all started. Fresh out of the shower, not a trace of makeup, and for the first time since Courtney had crashed her way into her life, she almost liked what she saw. The bruises were close to gone, cuts mostly scarred over - she almost looked like herself again. That was one saving grace, she supposed. 

Three days wasn't the end of the world. Maybe she was busy, maybe something had happened - that was always an option too. It didn't have to be hatred necessarily; life doesn't stop for anybody, and maybe Courtney's had just caught up with her too much for her to accommodate constant communication with a woman she barely knew. But there was still a sort of aching, nagging worry at the back of Bianca's mind that it was something more sinister. The whole deal with Katya had hurt her confidence just a tad - there was something about the knowledge that the person she'd thought she could see herself staying with for the rest of her life just managing to up and find somebody else out of the blue that made her worry that maybe she was the problem. Maybe people just naturally got sick of her - it was hardly difficult, between all of her various unpleasant mannerisms. She was too loud, too pushy, too judgemental. Too annoying - that one was always the kicker. She'd been 'annoying' by other people's description since she was a kid, and no matter how hard she'd tried as an adult, she couldn't escape from that monicker. She was rude, and occasionally mean - and whilst they weren't the only things about her, they were the ones that people noticed first, and associated with her. 

She felt the sudden impact of all of the tiny self-aggressions stirring in her head like a loose tooth, her stomach twisting itself into knots. She looked blankly between her reflection and her phone, unsure of what exactly to do with herself - so much so that as she heard the dogs barking at the door from the hall, it took her a moment to acknowledge it. 

Honestly, she hoped it wasn't anybody important - she was bare-faced and braless, with wet hair, in ridiculous Muppets pyjama pants that Adore had given her for Christmas ('You remind me of those two grumpy old guys - Waldo and whatever.' 'Statler and Waldorf, Adore.' 'Who?') and a sleeveless grey shirt that had been white when she bought it (sorting laundry had never been one of her strongpoints.) It was kind of embarrassing, honestly, but she was beyond caring. 

She made an attempt at holding Sammy and Dede back with her crutch as she opened the door, but she struggled to stop them before Sammy had practically thrown himself at Courtney's legs. The blonde seemed to have almost forgotten why she had shown up in the first place as she scooped him into her arms.  
"Oh my god, hi Delilah - you miss me?"  
"That's Samson - are you colourblind?" Bianca grinned, before remembering that she was supposed to be pissed off with her, forcing back a laugh. She scooped Dede up under one arm, leaning heavily against the doorframe with her other, already uncomfortable at having been standing for so long. So much for being self-conscious about how ridiculous she looked - Courtney was dressed in a hoodie and leggings, similarly fresh-faced and dishevelled. "What the fuck are you doing here?"  
"I'm sorry for blowing you off for the last few days - I didn't think a text would really cut it in terms of an apology. I would've come sooner, but I had a rehearsal." Courtney grimaced, pulling a face a little; putting Sammy back down on the floor, and sighing quietly. "Mind if I come in? I look like garbage, and I'm scared someone might see me."  
"That makes two of us." Bianca passed Dede onto Courtney, who placed her down, letting the other woman in and shutting the door behind them. "So, what happened?"  
"...I felt guilty." Courtney admitted after a moment of silence, looking at the floor and wringing her hands. "And embarrassed, and stupid. I just...well, I think I made a lot of assumptions about what you'd want from...this. And I didn't want you to think that I'm just some dumb blonde party-girl drunk mess."  
"Why the fuck would I have kept messaging you if you'd fucked up that badly? I'm not mad. Promise." Well, that lasted a while. Courtney shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, a half-smile dancing on her lips.  
"You're definitely not just saying that?" Bianca shook her head - an awkward arm's length of distance between the two of them. "I just...look, I know we barely know each other, and I know you probably think I'm an idiot, but I...I think I really like you; I wanna get to know you better, and I'm sorry if I fucked it up, you don't have to say yes if you don't want to. But what do you say to going out on a proper date - I won't get pissed, I won't try and fuck you unless you want me to, I-"  
"Right, shut up." Bianca raised a hand, Courtney silenced, a vague smile on her face as Bianca laughed. "Yes. Yes, I'll go on a date with you. I don't know why you thought you'd messed up so badly - it was a mistake, we all make them."  
"I mean, I should have thought-"  
"What can I say? Broken leg and morals - one of those things is your fault. Just cause I said no once doesn't mean that my answer won't change." Bianca smirked, Courtney succumbing to a fit of the giggles. "I'm serious. If you don't mind fucking a forty-year old with a busted face."  
"I think you're beautiful," Courtney gave a tiny, tentative smile; looking between her feet and Bianca's face. Her sudden shyness was adorable and delicious all at once - the blush rising to her cheeks in a peachy-pink flush, her lips oh-so kissable. Bianca found herself struck dumb at this, slack-jawed with no idea what to say. She reached out a tentative hand for Courtney's cheek, having to steady herself as she went, shifting all of her weight to one arm.  
"You should try demure and bashful more often - it suits you." Courtney laughed at this, turning her head to kiss the palm against her cheek, before taking Bianca's hand in hers, bridging the gap between the two of them.  
"Are you doing much this Friday?"  
"I'm not doing much, period. Is that an invitation?"  
"It might be. I have a few ideas." Courtney grinned, swinging Bianca's hand a little, playful and grinning. "I'll text you - and that's a promise this time. Apology accepted?"  
"Only because I think you're pretty."  
"Thanks." She backed towards the door, that coquettish little smile on her face. "Look, I've got to love you and leave you cause I've not eaten since about nine this morning, and I think I'm about to keel over, but I just...I wanted to make sure we were okay. Does that make sense?"  
"Sure - just answer your fucking phone in future."  
"Yes ma'am." Courtney chuckled lightly at this, stuffing her hands into the pocket of her hoodie and opening the door.  
"And learn to tell the difference between my dogs - they don't like it, it's disrespectful."  
"Okay, okay - Dede's the ginger one, yeah?"  
"Courtney, get out of my house."  
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Courtney gave a laugh, nervous.  
"You sure about that?"  
"...Like, a solid sixty percent sure." She smiled awkwardly, tucking her bangs between her ear. "See you Friday?"  
"Friday," Bianca reaffirmed, leaning against the frame of the door again, Courtney once again standing outside.  
"Oh, Bea?"  
"My name's Bianca, but whatever."  
"Oh, that's a fucking mouthful, let me live." Courtney pulled her into an embrace, arms draped over Bianca's shoulders. "I like it when your hair moves. Bear that in mind." She grinned, twirling a lock of Bianca's hair around one finger as she pulled her into a chaste, tentative kiss; turning and walking away with a tiny wave - Bianca repeating the gesture, shutting the door. 

Well, that was that question answered then. She gave a relieved sigh, leaning against the door as Sammy and Dede circled at her feet like sharks. Now...how does one plan date attire when they can't wear heels?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trust me, this all means something eventually. I loved Sharon and Courtney's sort of love/hate friendship and I was dying to write some problematic Shalaska crap as a side plot so here's the beginning of it. Just enjoy the fuckery

"Are you _sure_ you don't want me to give you an undercut?"  
"I'm not even completely sure I want you to be dyeing it in the first place to be honest, I- _put the scissors down, Sharon._ " Courtney held a towel around her shoulders that had at one stage been grey, but was now bleach-stained and smeared with various coloured dyes; cross-legged on a kitchen stool in front of Sharon's bathroom mirror, glass of wine held between her legs, wearing very little besides the towel, a bralette, and pyjama shorts; Sharon behind her in an oversized men's white button-down and black latex gloves, working candyfloss-pink dye through her hair with her fingers.   
"Shut up and sit still, or I'm gonna get it all over your face, and it's a bitch to wash off," Sharon said pointedly. She paused, picking up her own wine glass from the bathroom counter and taking a drink, before going back to Courtney's hair.   
"Remind me why I'm letting you do this again?"  
"Because I overestimated how much dye I'd need for an inch of hair; Pearl, Max, and Alaska are all boring bitches; and you're the only other bleach-blonde I know. Now shut up - you're distracting me."   
"It's like painting a fucking wall, how hard can it be?"   
"I've still got scissors within like a foot of me - I wouldn't argue if you really value looking like a Disney princess." Sharon laughed, deep and throaty, miming a cutting motion at Courtney's scalp with her fingers and the lock of hair she had in her hand - Courtney scowling at her. "I mean, I think you'd suit the Audrey Hepburn look, but..."  
"Whatever the fuck this is, it isn't Audrey Hepburn." Courtney gestured to the remnants of Sharon's hair. Chopped off on impulse about a week ago, shaved down to just over half an inch and dyed a darker pink colour, Sharon's androgyne new look was certainly an acquired taste. It really evidenced her ability to clean up after herself to boot - the bathroom floor was still covered in hair; two braids sitting on the countertop, one black and one blonde. "Sylvia Plath post-suicide attempt, maybe."  
"Harsh and insensitive."  
"Oh please, when did you ever care about insensitive? Fine, you look like the doll from the Rugrats."   
"Bite me, bitch." Courtney grinned, poking her tongue out at the other woman as Sharon twisted her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck, tying a plastic bag around her head to keep the dye in place, peeling her gloves off and throwing them down into the sink. "Ta-dah. Don't touch it, you can wash it out in like an hour or something, whatever."   
"Cool." Courtney looked around her, before her gaze fell on Sharon again, who was now perched on the closed lid of the toilet. "I dunno what the fuck you were thinking - you had such nice hair."  
"Well, if it's any consolation, Alaska hates it too," Sharon muttered, pulling her knees up to her chest and frowning. "I mean, god fucking forbid I should do what I want, ever."  
"Not what I'm saying." Courtney replied, turning to face her. "It's cute, in a grotesque sort of way."  
"Keep digging, Courtney." Sharon gave a vague smile. There was something incredibly juvenile about their get-togethers - whilst Alaska tended to go for more of a grown-ups drinking wine kind of vibe, there was a high-school slumber party quality to spending her evenings hanging out with Sharon; staying up all night watching scary movies and telling secrets, sleeping (or passing out) on the living room floor and not surfacing until three o'clock the next day. "I dunno...I don't know how to feel about whatever the fuck is going on between me and Lasky. Like...I think I like her. I mean, shit - this time last year I was sure that I loved her, but...something's changed. We sort of just don't...fit like we used to. I don't get it. Now all we do is fucking argue about stupid crap, and then the only reason we talk after a week of fighting is because one of us showed up at the other one's door, drunk and crying, and then we'd just fuck and forget about it. That's not how normal relationships work, is it?"   
"No, it isn't. But since when were you guys in a normal relationship?"  
"This isn't funny, Court...I'm kinda worried about us, really. And I know that we'd split up, but we were on the verge of getting back together - we've done it before; it's more like we were dating for three months twenty-four times, not six full years. And now I think I've fucked it again, and...I don't know. I know she drives me nuts, but that's better than being alone, right?"  
"Well...probably not, if you're this upset about it. There's gotta be other people out there."

"Yeah, because you're the fucking love guru suddenly - the normal response to getting hit by a car is not to try and get down the pants of whoever hit you - I'm not gonna be able to win her back that way." Sharon curled her lip, staring into her lap with glassy eyes; pushing her glasses onto the top of her head and rubbing her makeup away, mascara smearing down her cheeks.   
"Y'know, I don't think we're that different from the two of you." Courtney said lightly, taking a drink, before noticing Sharon's lip curl - the other woman seemed to spike at this.   
"Bullshit. I hate that false equivalency garbage normally, because it doesn't make anybody feel better, but that statement specifically is absolute crap." Sharon growled; Courtney looking away, biting her lip. "Firstly, you've known her for a week, and secondly - she clearly actually fucking likes you. I'm not convinced that that's really the deal with me and Alaska right now."   
"Look, all I'm saying is that we're a little bit on-again-off-again, and I don't really know where I stand with her - but I really like her, and I don't want it to fuck it up. Do you get what I mean?"  
"No, I don't. We're not even kinda similar. Dumb bitch."  
"I fucking hate it when you call me that - I'm smarter than you think."  
"Courtney, I'm freaking the fuck out here - sorry I don't have time to think about your feelings. I want to fucking find somebody, but I'm sticking with Alaska because i don't think that anybody else is gonna want me, even though I know that we aren't happy together...it's just a fucking shitshow. I hate it." 

"What do you mean nobody else will want you? You're perfectly lovely as you are."  
"I'm a fucking freak show - half the time I can't even get people to look at me." She sounded almost defeated now, her voice drink-addled and tearful.   
"Why didn't you tell me, Sharon?" Courtney stood up, sitting down on the floor by Sharon's side and squeezing her hand. Sharon momentarily looked away from her, chewing at her lip.

"Because you were too preoccupied living your stupid fucking perfect life, falling in love and being gross, and I just..." she sighed, a little defeated. "I didn't want to bug you. Because I knew I'd freak - you've got it all going for you in every other aspect of your life, and now here you are finding someone out of fucking nowhere. And don't try and downplay it, because i know how much you like her. Meanwhile I'm stuck here having meltdown arguments with the one person that's meant to care about me over a fucking haircut. You just...find everything you've got in your life, you don't have to try for jack shit. It doesn't feel fair."  
"Okay, I'm just gonna ignore the character assassination because you're kinda drunk and in a bad mood, but...look, you say that you're at a loss with Alaska, but have you actually tried looking for someone else, or have you just resigned yourself to being miserable all the christing time?" Sharon shook her head.   
"I've been banking on her getting horny and running back, as usual."  
"So, why wait? Here, gimme your phone." Courtney had snatched it out of her hand before Sharon got a chance to protest it; the other woman scowling at her. 

"Oh, fuck no - bitch, you are _not_ downloading Tinder, I am not that desperate." She tried to snatch it off of her before she went any further, but Courtney slid on her ass across the bathroom floor, finishing the app download before creating a new account amid Sharon's yelling at her.   
"Oh, you two-faced cunt! I thought you were meant to be Alaska's friend."  
"And if it were her, I'd do the same thing. You need a fucking cold shower, ASAP, and so does she. This is a joke." She scrolled through Sharon's camera roll, picking out a handful of photos - only pictures of her, she knew from the past that group photos were annoying as fuck and usually led to disappointment.   
"Bitch, I'm gonna put Nair in your shampoo."  
"Come on, it'll be fun!" She grinned, childish and giggling. "Okay, so I've got 'Sharon Coady, 35, artist and performer, NYC. If in doubt, freak em out.'"  
"That's fucking garbage." Sharon scoffed, reading over Courtney's shoulder, now kneeling on the floor too. Courtney could see her suppressing a smile, trying not to get into the spirit of things just to spite her.   
"Okay, nope, nope, nope, she's gross, absolutely not, I slept with her last month so no, nope, nope-" Courtney read aloud, swiping each face that popped up and laughing almost hysterically.   
"You're a piece of shit!"  
"Nope, nope - oh, she's cute. Valentina Leyva, half a mile away."  
Sharon took the phone from her, scowling and looking through the pictures. "Nah, she's like ten years younger than me, that's cradle-robbing. Next."  
"Okay - Alexis Michelle, 33, four miles?"  
"She's got two first names, that's weird."  
"Coady can be a first name."  
"At least it's a fucking name, who the hell's called Jenek?"   
"Don't be rude, I'm trying to help you here. Seriously though, look at that _body_. I like her."  
"That's because she's just a scaled-up version of the bitch you're dating, you moron. Same shape, different dress size."  
"What? I like thighs!"   
"Whatever - I'm not fucking a copy of your crippled girlfriend."  
"You're so mean - and she's not my girlfriend." Courtney turned back to the phone, swiping right on Alexis anyway. "Farrah Clayton, twenty-"  
"I'll stop you there - nobody in their twenties."  
"I thought you said you'd always dreamed about being a cougar." Courtney dug an elbow into Sharon's ribs; the other woman slapping her away, a smile on her face at last.   
"Not if the girls I'm going after are those annoying beersexual experimental assholes - look at her, look what she's wearing. All I'd be doing is reaffirming for her that she's straight and wasting my time."  
"I own that exact same fucking dress! You're so judgemental."   
"Okay..." she continued swiping, murmuring 'no' under her breath repeatedly. "Adore Del- never mind." Courtney quickly swiped left, banishing the half-forgotten hook-up's face from Sharon's screen. Fuck, she was still cute. But at the same time, she stank of cigarettes and was astronomically bad at answering her texts - though, at that point Courtney felt she didn't really have a leg to stand on in the realms of not answering texts. "Nope, nope, nope - ooh, look at her. Sasha Steinberg, thirty, seven miles away. She looks like an arty asshole, seems like your type."   
"Courtney, just cause she's got a buzz cut-"  
"Tough shit, I've already said yes. You're welcome."  
"I wasn't thanking you. I bet she's a bitch." Sharon curled her lip, snatching her phone. "Give me that back."  
"Please, give it a try? For me?"   
"Courtney, I wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire right now." Sharon snarled at her, though beneath that there was something of a laugh. "You're such a bitch."   
"It's why you love me," Courtney grinned, draining the last of the contents of her glass. 

"How are you and the Latina tripod doing, anyway?" Sharon leaned against the wall, Courtney slumping down by her side with an airy smile.   
"She has a name - it's Bianca."  
"Yeah, whatever. I don't wanna hear any more about how perfect she is, just give me the facts. Have you screwed yet?"  
"Her leg's still broken."  
"And who's fault is that, hmm?" Sharon smirked. "Are you gonna...y'know, try and go any further with her?" She gave a nod.  
"We've got a proper date planned for next week - I can't fucking wait. I-"  
"Okay, that's it, you're gushing again. That was a yes or no question." Sharon stood up, glancing at herself in the mirror and running a hand through her hair. "I think it's been like, half an hour? Go and rinse that shit out." She gestured to the plastic bag on Courtney's head.   
"Only if you promise you're not gonna stab me Norma Bates-style while I'm showering."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took such a damn age to update, loves! Anyway, we're getting into the serious shit now - date night at long, long last. Thanks for waiting!

"Well, this is hauntingly familiar." Bianca gave a coy half-smirk, awkwardly swinging her legs into the car and trying not to shut her crutches in the door. Courtney grinned from the driver's seat, looking Bianca up and down as the other woman fastened her seatbelt. Damn. She was yet to break away from the black-white-red colour scheme that she'd berated Courtney for pinning her to; slouchy burgundy sweater dress cinched at the waist with a black elasticated belt, patent Chelsea boots on her feet - well, foot. What with her right still being in plaster and everything. It was damn cute - silver hoop earrings and a black lace scarf holding her hair out of her face. She'd left it down; a silky, unbroken russet curtain to the small of her back. Courtney bit her lip - thoughts torn between how utterly gorgeous the other woman looked in her outfit, and how much more gorgeous she would look out of it. The dress clung in all the right places, beautifully accentuating her hips and bust. God, Courtney had done  _ far _ too much thinking about those fucking boobs.    
"You ready to go?"   
Bianca nodded. "It's an interesting experience being in this thing rather than under it - Courtney, what the fuck have you got on your head?"    
She giggled, whipping off the pashmina she'd had wrapped around her hair off with a flourish, throwing it into the back seat before starting the car and pulling out into the bedlam of NY evening traffic - even in the residential parts it was always batshit. That was one thing she missed about Australia - the ability to drive uninterrupted for more than a mile at a time. She tossed her candyfloss curls over one shoulder, a smile spreading across her face from ear to ear as she watched as Bianca face-palmed. "Ta-dah! Do you like it?"   
"Oh my god…” The brunette stifled a laugh with her pretty face buried in her hands. “It's...well, it's certainly something." Bianca was trying with everything she had not to grin at the no-longer-blonde's new look - god, she looked so...perfect. So utterly, disgustingly fucking perfect. Who knew that this bitch would look flawless with pink hair? Well, everyone actually - that was just a given. She always looked flawless.  _ God, Bianca - you need a fucking cold shower ASAP. _ __  
"That was a yes or no question, Ms Haylock. Don't be a dickhead."   
"It's okay." Bianca shrugged, staring out the window and trying to appear impassive, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. "I mean, you'd look sexy scalped, so it's not exactly a big deal, but...yeah, I kinda like it."   
"You think I'm sexy?"   
"No, I think you're absolutely grotesque. Just fucking drive and stop fishing for compliments - try not to hit any more pedestrians."   
"Y'know just once, I'd like it if you didn't end every sentence with some sarcastic joke."   
"Okay - you are an asshole."   
"Well, I suppose I walked right into that on, didn't I?" She rolled her eyes, her face stony. "Just like you walked right into this thing last week."   
"I could still sue you. Don't push your luck."   
"Alright, alright." Courtney smirked, trying to split her attention between the road in front of her and watching Bianca smile, not wanting to miss a thing the brunette did. "How are you doing?"   
"Could be worse," she said, still toying with her hair and not meeting Courtney's gaze - if it was nerves or just playing hard to get, the other woman couldn't tell. "Still hurts like a bitch, but my face looks a lot better. I've only got two layers of concealer on today." The remark seemed to only be half-joking as Bianca sighed softly, head now leaning against the window. "It's just getting a bit old, really - I've got cabin fever like crazy, I just want to get out of the house for some reason besides doctor’s appointments. I'm going nuts."    
"Well, surely this is me doing you a favour then?"    
"I mean, you owe me a couple of fucking favours after all this."   
"I think you're milking it a tad, princess."    
"You broke my leg in three places, I think it's up to me to decide whether or not I'm milking it." Bianca grinned, inching slightly closer to Courtney. "Either way, I'm going batshit. It takes an hour and a half to take a fucking shower for crying out loud, it's making me want to shoot myself."    
"Aw well, you'll get better eventually. And if it's any consolation, I won't be making any weird boozed-up advances this evening. That’s kind of the reason that I drove us; Uber or a cab would have been easier, but I need an incentive not to get pissed.”   
“How noble of you,” Bianca gave a small smile, a laugh flickering in her voice. “Look, seriously, about last time-”   
“I’m sorry - I know I said it before, but...Well, I seem to do a lot of apologising in this relationship, don’t I?”  

 

"Don't apologise. What I was trying to tell you was that I didn't mind, okay? I just...I dunno. I thought you were gorgeous, and I really liked you, but you were also kinda drunk, and I didn't know if you were doing what you were doing because you actually you wanted me, or if it was because you were just horny and seeing stars. And I kind of panicked."   
"Why wouldn't I actually want you?" Courtney side-eyed her; the other woman's face had fallen a little, her smile gone as she wrung her hands in her lap.    
"Well, because I'm a cunt for one thing."   
"No you're not."   
"I'm older, and you could do better."   
"Not by much, and so could everyone - that's a shitty excuse."    
"Well, I don't fucking know then. Either way, I was just worried. There's also the sort of logistical issues with the cast and everything, but I think we could've worked around that. It was like 90% me being stupid."    
"Oh, shut up. Now you're overthinking it."    
  
"It's just a little surreal," Bianca said, a soft sigh preceding her words. "I never thought that I'd wind up with somebody like you even looking my way, so I don't really know how to act."    
"Someone like me? Between that Katya chick and me, you seem to exclusively date blondes, I don't know what you're talking about."   
"No, I mean...okay, I don't know what I mean. But still." She shrugged, looking at Courtney as the Aussie toyed with her hair with the hand that wasn't on the steering wheel. Pink suited her - she loved it. It was strange - she'd been so caught up in the belief that she was only interested in Court for the fact that she was a slightly prettier Katya clone that she'd never realised how completely dissimilar the two of them were. All of the heat in her body surged to the pit of her stomach, coming to the realisation that this girl was entirely her own sort of beautiful, and she adored everything about it. "You're not a blonde, anyway."    
"Oh, so you like it, then?"   
"That's not what I said." Her face remained stony, before the exterior crumbled and she leaned over to kiss Courtney's cheek, placing a hand on her thigh. "Fine, I'll admit it. You don't look terrible."   
"Oh, that's high praise." Courtney was aware almost of nothing besides the manicured thumb tracing circles on the inside of her thigh; the soft noise of Bianca's breathing and the scent of her perfume. "God, you're such a distraction."   
"Well, we all know that you need to be distracted while driving like you need a hole in the tit."    
"You're fucking gorgeous..."   
"I guess I could say the same about you." Bianca smiled, a breathy laugh giving a lilt to her voice. "Y'know, the last thing I thought I'd be doing with you when we first met was going out on a fucking date with you."   
"Aw, you mean you didn't immediately fall for me on sight?"   
"Bitch, I didn't even think you liked girls. Besides - I was kinda too concentrated on being in pain and pissed off with you to think about screwing you."   
"Well, I guess you were kinda within your right to be pissed off." She receded into herself, shrugging her shoulders up with a tight-lipped smile. The brunette laughed at this, perfect white teeth and dimples on full show, making Courtney grin. 

“Y’know, for what it’s worth, I’m not too mad about the outcome of all of this. You’re cute.”   
“I’m glad you think so,” Courtney said with a smirk. The passing streetlights illuminated a beautiful starry glint in Bianca’s dark eyes, her smile wide as she giggled at Courtney’s comment. Courtney practically felt herself melting just at the thought of her.   
“Arrogant, much?” 

 

_

 

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you’ve never fucked a guy before? Total gold star?” Courtney tilted her head, eyebrows furrowed at the thought of the sheer possibility. Bianca took a drink of her virgin mojito, shaking her head.   
“This is classy over-dinner adult conversation, isn’t it?” She rolled her eyes, all too aware that of all of the other groups scattered around the restaurant - some uber-chic vegan fusion place which had been entirely Courtney’s idea (it had taken a good ten minutes for Bianca to even start deciphering the menu) full of twentysomething hipster couples, leaving Bianca fairly certain that she was the oldest person in the room - none of them were probably discussing prior sexual exploits. But then again, none of them had Courtney leading the conversation, and there was something about her leading the conversation that always managed to turn it lewd. “Nah, it’s true. Dicks aren’t that great, they’re just like sad sea cucumbers, really. I don’t think I’m missing much.”    
“Wow, check you out. Usually you purebred lesbian types wouldn’t go near us bisexuals with a ten-foot barge pole.”   
“I’d had you down as a total fucking _ beer _ sexual until not that long ago, so it makes an improvement.” She smirked, relishing the disdain on Courtney’s face.    
“God, no offense to you guys but you’re arseholes. My friend Sharon is one of these real ‘lesbos only’ gatekeeper dykey types and it drives me insane.”   
“I’m charmed,” Bianca curled her lip, deadpan. “Oh, actually - tell a lie, I did fuck a dude once, in college. This guy Jared, he was in a few classes with me and kind of stalked me for a bit, it was weird. Anyway, we were both shit-your-pants drunk, we went back to his room, yadda yadda. He was finished within about thirty seconds of boring missionary shit whilst I lay there wishing for my own death - I was like a Fleshlight with a pulse. It was garbage.”   
“So you’re telling me that’s what turned you?”   
“Well, it sure as shit helped me confirm how fucking gay I am.”

 

“College sex is always rough anyway,” Courtney said before sipping her drink. “I remember I had this one guy - I think his name was Dan? He was fucking hot, when I first met him I would have climbed him like a bloody tree. So we went on a few dates, and this one time we went back to his place afterwards. I was giving him head - and he was like, a foot taller than me at least - and he pulled it out of my mouth right as he was about to come; spaffed literally over the top of my head. It was fucking gross. Worst part is he was asleep within about five minutes of that happening like there was nothing weird about it, whilst I sneak into his shower to try and get the jizz out of my hair.” She giggled, a slight blush rising to her cheeks; Bianca trying to hold back her own laughing with a demure manicured hand held over her face. “I mean, men are alright but they’ve got no stamina.” 

  
“I’d say I’ll drink to that, but this tastes like a mix of lemonade and Listerine, which isn’t worth it given that there’s no booze in it, so I’m refusing to call it a drink.” Bianca gave a half-smile, gesturing to her glass, before taking another sip, leaving a scarlet ring of lipstick around the black straw. Courtney grinned blankly across at her from the other side of the table with that gorgeous dumb-bitch platinum smile. From the conversation that had preceded the sex talk, she had deduced that ‘dumb bitch’ was about the furthest thing from the truth about Courtney; the beautiful blonde facade seemed only a front for the existentialist nonsense that she managed to spout at any given opportunity. She was political and ingenious in ways that B had never imagined she could be, and she talked about it all with that plasticky smile and a lock of hair twirling around her little finger as though she didn’t know her ass from her armpit. It was an adorable contrast, and she loved everything about it. 

 

The evening itself had been every possible sort of divine; the two of them laughing together as though they had known each other forever as the mocktails flowed and the night wore on; Courtney’s gushy compliments met by blushing and a demure smile from Bianca as opposed to her usual snark as they sat waiting for the desserts to arrive, Courtney gently nudging the hem of Bianca’s dress with her high-heeled foot under the table. The ability the other woman had to turn her to butter was unbelievable. The banter in the car had been left largely there, and Bianca had managed to coax out something more about Courtney herself, which made her happy. Particularly given that Bianca had found herself unwillingly bearing her soul to her on their prior meeting. The Aussie had moved out to the US at thirty-two, after making a minor name for herself as a club singer in Sydney. She’d found herself taking little gigs singing and dancing here and there, the odd stint body-doubling or understudying, and basically doing whatever in order to make it somehow. Bianca had to hand it to her - dedication. She felt her heart skip a little at every tiny lilt of Courtney’s voice, every coy smile. She felt this incredible adoration wash over her every time their eyes met; this weird, inevitable falling in love. She couldn’t avoid it, and as much as the thought in the abstract turned her stomach, in practice it all felt so...right. 

 

Courtney watched the other woman in silence as she glanced around the restaurant, seeming to be trying to avert her eyes from Courtney entirely, looking to and fro distractedly with a distant yet amicable look on her face. She couldn’t help herself but to stare right at her. The way that dress hugged her curves so beautifully, the cascade of her dark hair over her shoulder - it was all eerily perfect. She lost herself to the tides of a daydreamed fantasy, the thought of Bianca’s hands on her body; that honeyed skin against her own. She heard Bianca mutter ‘fuck’ in hushed, sultry tones as Courtney toyed with her nipple, before bringing her hands down, deft fingers slipping into soaked panties, and-

 

“Hello? Earth to Courtney.”

 

She shook her head a little, twitching away from the fantasy with her jaw hanging slack at an odd angle - remembering that they weren’t in that foggy fantasy bedroom with the black satin sheets and dimmed red lights that Courtney had been imagining. They were in a restaurant, being grown-ups - Bianca’s leg was still broke, and Courtney had made a promise both to the other woman and to herself that she wouldn’t allow her randiness to get the better of her this time. She came close to cursing under her breath, finding it hard to restrain from telling her there and then exactly how much she wanted her, ignoring the surge of heat between her thighs. “What?”   
“What’s on your mind, babe?” 

“Nothing, you’re just...really fucking pretty.” Bianca turned away at this, smiling bashfully into her lap. Courtney decided to forget to bring up the fact that the word ‘fucking’ was most of what was on her mind. “I just...listen Bianca, there’s something I want to tell you.” 

“Uh-huh?” The brunette’s voice matched that silky caramel tone that it had taken up in Courtney’s dumb imaginings - though it dripped anticipation rather than desperation. Courtney took her hand, her chin tilted down as she looked up shyly at the other woman through the candyfloss-pink of her bangs. 

“Look, I know it might seem really soon, and you’ll probably think I’m crazy. But even if I kind of hate how we met, I couldn’t be happier to have you in my life, and-”

 

“Hey sluts!” 

 

Bianca’s eyes widened at the voice, eyebrows raising and lip curled as the young woman with bright blue hair approached the table, an inebriated sway to her gait as she walked in a shaky line towards their table in her sky-high platform boots. She watched Bianca go from shocked to furious in one shift of the face, her visage growing stony and the blood seeming to boil in her eyes. Courtney put her head in her hands, emitting a low groan as embarrassment washed over her in waves. 

  
“Adore, what the everloving fuck are you doing?” 

“Nothin’,” she grinned, before hiccuping. Bianca’s nostrils flared. The fucking moron stank like the floor of a bar at three AM, that stupid smile across her face, wide and hapless. She sat down on the edge of Bianca’s lap - the sudden twinge of pain making her twitch, face still seething - slinging an arm around the older woman’s shoulder. “I just missed you, mom. I’m kidding, she isn’t my mom.” She let out a loud laugh, kissing Bianca on the cheek and leaving behind a scar of black lipstick. “She’s too fuckin’ old for that.” Bianca rolled her eyes, elbowing Adore in the ribs as she repeated her previous question through gritted teeth - the girl now standing up and slinking her body over the table like a cat, resting her chin on one hand. “Oh, hey Courtney! Long time no see, huh? Having fun with my sloppy seconds, B?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun-dun-dunnnn.......
> 
> What a place to leave it on, huh? I'll try and go less than a month before writing more next time...


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait - again! We're getting to the good bit now though, so I hope the wait was worth it. Thanks for sticking by me, kitty girls-

“Ganj-Ganj!”   
“Adorey, what the fuck took you so long?” The bitch who Bianca assumed had been the instigator of this bullshit leaned against the wall with a cigarette in hand, slouching to one side in towering heels that pushed her up to beyond obnoxious supermodel height. At least, she hoped that Laganja been the instigator - if not, Adore would be getting her ass kicked as soon as Bianca had use of both legs. “Oh, hey Miss B.”   
“Great. It’s you.” Bianca scowled, leaning heavily on her crutches. She felt beyond dreadful for leaving Courtney on her own, but she’d had to physically remove Adore before the situation in there had gotten any worse. She was already bright red in the face and so embarrassed she thought she might vomit. So much for a sophisticated, grown-up night out. Bianca really had to get more friends her own age. Bunny and Jackie were of course fantastic at driving her to drink, encouraging bad decisions, and generally being pains in the ass, but at least they were usually too legless by ten pm to even think about trying to pull shit like this. And they had at least a modicum of general respect for the fact that this was something that was important to her. 

 

Laganja snapped her fingers, one hand raised as her mouth formed an off-centre pout. Bianca rolled her eyes.

“Trust and believe, mama.”   
“First of all, I’m not your ‘mama’, my name is Bianca. Secondly, what the  _ fuck _ are you two  _ morons _ doing here?” 

“It was her idea.” Adore pointed accusingly at Laganja’s shitfaced, stupid mug, the blonde seeming not to hear it at all, taking another drag of her cigarette, looking Bianca up and down. 

 

"God, you look like shit. No, wait-“ she paused, that same obnoxious pout on her lips again, before continuing. “Just more like shit than usual.” Adore cackled at this, Laganja having to hold herself upright on the wall she was laughing so hard. 

"How drunk are you two fucking dipshits?" Bianca snapped, her voice having gone up at least an octave in her anger. Adore’s head lolled - a stupid, empty Anna Nicole smile on her face as she shifted drunkenly from one foot to the other, speech slow and movements staggering. 

 

"Not drunk - haven't even gargled mouthwash. Look, smell." She half-crouched to exhale up Bianca’s nose, the other woman unable to move out of her way. She grimaced, swatting her away and recoiling.

"Haven't brushed your fucking teeth for a couple days either based on that smell." She curled her lip. Laganja leaned one elbow on the top of Bianca’s head - the other woman was six feet tall in her bare feet, and needed the extra six inch lift kit of her Litas like Bianca needed a hole in the tit - blowing smoke in her face and grinning childishly. 

“So...how’s your date going? Fuckin’ dyke.” The slur made her laugh, but Bianca had to suppress the urge to slap her. “She cute?”

“I’m not gonna engage you in conversation about this - fucking go home, both of you.”

“Don’t wanna.” Laganja said plainly, rebellion in her eyes. “I think you’re just with her to like, kinda get with Adore. Y’know, because she’s already done her. Are you sure you’re not just secretly in love with  _ her _ ?” Even Adore was visibly uncomfortable at this point, but Laganja was persisting despite the steam virtually rising from a now utterly furious Bianca. 

“Negative - I refuse to take home anybody that I have to bathe first. Fuck yourself, you stupid pothead.” Bianca turned, trying to walk away before anything escalated.

 

“Oh, no fucking way - come for me, honey, but leave my fuckin friends out of this.” Laganja stood fully, leglessly squaring up to Bianca with anger in her eyes. Bianca looked confused at this, unsure of what the snap change in Laganja’s tone of voice had been all about, but absolutely sure that she didn’t like it. 

“When the fuck did I come for either of you? Chill out, you crazy bitch.” 

“Laganja, I’m bored, let’s go.” Adore’s voice had taken up a sort of whiny, nasally tone; she was hovering around in what looked close to a sort of fear, clearly regretting her decision to come out here upon realising how much it was getting to Bianca. She grabbed Laganja’s hand, half-assedly trying to pull her away, sticking out her bottom lip and kicking her feet like a toddler. Bianca couldn’t remember the last time she had wanted the earth to open up and swallow her more than she did in that exact moment. 

““I don’t care if you’re already hurt - I will fuck you up, cunt-“

 

“Bianca? What’s going on? Are you okay?” She heard Courtney’s voice before she saw her; stomach twisting with her humiliation as the Aussie came to her side, swaying in her stilettos. She placed one hand on her shoulder, looking in a slightly concerned manner between Laganja and Adore. “Are they bothering you, B?”

“No fucking shit, Sherlock.” Bianca curled her lip, speaking through gritted teeth. Laganja’s hostility had departed as quickly as it had shown up as she strutted over to Courtney, toying with the other woman’s pink hair as she snapped her gum. 

“Oh, so you’re the famous Courtney then?” She smirked, giggling drunkenly - voice wavering and gravelly. “Lemme ask you something, honey - who’s pussy tastes better, huh? Adore or Bianca?”

Courtney looked somewhat disturbed by this, looping an arm through around Bianca’s waist and holding her close. “Uh- fuck…” she chewed her lip uncomfortably, turning to Bianca. “Who is she? What’s happening?” 

“I’m Laganja Est-“

“She’s one of Adore’s dipshit friends, they’re both stoned out of their brains and drunk as fuck, and not worth our time.” Adore mumbled something about ‘I swear to drunk I’m not fuck’ from her position slouched against the wall as Laganja whined in protest, still unnervingly close to Courtney. Bianca raised a hand, pushing her out of the way. “What’s happening in there? I was just about to come back in. Are we-“

“I paid and left. I didn’t think there was much point in staying - that was a bit of a mood kill.” Courtney winced, her discomfort obvious on her face. Bianca grimaced. 

“I’m so sorry-”   
“Not your fault,” Courtney averted her eyes from Bianca, chewing at her lip. “We can talk about it later.” 

 

Bianca felt about ready to accept her own death at this point. She gave a heavy sigh, Courtney walking away with a brief murmur to her about going to get the car - scowling with fire in her eyes at Laganja and Adore as soon as Courtney was out of eyeshot.

“You’re lucky we’re in fucking public, because I swear to god I could kill the pair of you - especially you.” She looked accusingly at Laganja, the blonde folding her arms and smirking.

“What are you gonna do about it, huh?”    
“Well, so far this is stalking and harassment, with a threat of assault or two thrown in somewhere. I could call the cops on your asses.” Bianca raised an eyebrow; Laganja still not stepping down. 

“You won’t, though, will you?”

“You wanna fucking bet?” Bianca snapped through gritted teeth; Laganja recoiling with a start. “I want the two of you out of my fucking sight before she gets back, or I will. Okay?” 

 

Laganja stepped back a little, grabbing Adore’s arm - the other woman was now pouting and silent behind her, looking almost as though she could cry. Her regret was strikingly obvious in her face. 

“Just so you know, we’re leaving because we want to, not because you told us to.” Laganja simpered, curling her lip before turning on her heel and flouncing away, dragging a straining Adore with her - the other woman pulling back, an apology on the tip of her tongue as she half-reached for Bianca, mouth hanging ajar. “Come on, Adore, I wanna go get drunk.”

 

“Because you aren't already?” Bianca muttered, shifting her weight on her crutches and readjusting the purse strap on her shoulder. She was flushed scarlet, absolutely furious - unable to help but replay Courtney’s reaction over and over in her head. She was fairly certain she’d never seen the other woman looking more uncomfortable. She felt slightly sick, trying to script in her head how she planned to explain it all away, the words not even sounding right in her head - she had no idea how awful they’d feel on her lips, but that didn’t even bear thinking about. She felt legitimately sick, the bizarre overpriced vegan lasagne she’d had for dinner - along with her three mocktails and tiramisu - stirring uncomfortably in her stomach. All this bullshit, all the headaches over whether it would wind up happening at all because Bianca’s nerves had had her almost cancelling about eight times, and she’d managed to fucking ruin their evening regardless. 

 

Her thoughts fell apart under her as she saw Courtney pull up in her peripheral vision, and she made about as quick a dash for the car as she could in her current state, face still blushing violently. It was with a degree of surprise that she noted that Courtney had a smile on her face.

 

“What’s wrong, B?”   
“Nothing - I’m just beyond fucking embarrassed. I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” Courtney shrugged airily. “I mean, it’ll make a hell of a story. Why the fuck-”   
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “I’ve been friends with Adore for years now, and I think she’s a vege-something, I don’t know if it’s vegetarian or vegan or whatever - I happened to tell her where we were going in case she’d been before, and...well, clearly she has a lot of hot-ass mess friends besides me, because that just happened. I think it was mostly Laganja’s fault, but that’s only because I’m feeling charitable and giving Adore the benefit of the doubt.” Her voice was flat and a touch morose, clearly not okay with what had just gone down in the slightest. “I wrecked our evening. I’m sorry.” 

 

“You didn’t wreck shit, B. You couldn’t have predicted that, now straighten your face. It’ll be fine - night’s still young. We can go somewhere else.”   
“I think I just wanna go home. Not worth risking running into those two shits again.” Bianca curled her lip, sighing. “You’re welcome to come back for coffee or whatever if you want though. I don’t think I’m quite ready to say goodbye yet. I’ve missed you.”   
“Okay - yeah, sure.” Courtney’s face lit up at the invitation, tossing her hair over one shoulder and pulling out of her parking spot. “Just as long as I’m not gonna have to talk you off a fucking ledge because of all that crap.” 

“You might have to stop me from going out and committing homicide tomorrow morning once those two are hung-over vegetables so they’re easy targets, but I’m no danger to myself. At least I don’t think so.”   
“Relief.” Courtney grinned. “Let’s go - coffee it is.” 

 

____

 

“Okay, B - embarrassing confession time.” Courtney turned to the other woman as she sat on one of the bar stools at her kitchen counter, Courtney exasperatedly leaning on the worktop nearest the kettle, throwing her head back dramatically and sighing. 

“Can’t be as embarrassing as what just went down,” Bianca muttered, smirking a little. She was irritated at sitting around her own kitchen whilst her date fussed about making coffee, but Courtney had point-blank refused to allow her to do anything by way of assistance, stating that she was - to quote - ‘still disabled’ and had been on her feet too long already. The closest thing to ‘help’ that Bianca had offered had been pointing at things and giving Courtney directions as to where everything was, and even that had only been allowed out of sheer necessity. 

“This is going to make me sound dumb as a rock, but…” She sighed again, a small groan to it as she tried not to laugh, grabbing something from behind her back. “What in the fuck is this?” 

 

Bianca grinned, hiding her face with her hand as she stifled the outcry of laughter that she felt rise. “It’s a French press, hon. Not exactly rocket science.” 

“Oh. Right. And, uh…” She muttered the first few syllables of a few words, trying to figure out how to say what she was trying to say. Eventually, she placed the offending object back down on the counter and slumped down on the seat next to B, dropping her head to the Latina’s shoulder. “Listen, I’m gonna be super fucking honest, I don’t have a bloody clue what I’m doing. I thought that the whole invitation was just like, a ruse. I don’t even drink coffee.” 

 

Bianca raised an eyebrow. “Okay, firstly that’s insane and I don’t know how you can be a functional human without caffeine, but I’ll let that slide. And secondly - that’s...Well, okay. Fair enough.” 

“Is that it? I mean, think about it - ‘do you want a cup of coffee?’ is internationally-recognised workplace slang for ‘fuck me’, so like…” She trailed off, unsure of what she was going to say next. Her hand trailed up and down Bianca’s forearm, as she pushed their bodies closer together and giving an airy sigh. 

“It might have crossed my mind…” Bianca ran a hand through Courtney’s hair, her movements slow and lethargic, but tender at the same time. “I...Are you sure? Like, surely the logistics of that would be a bit-”   
“Your hands still work, B.” Courtney said plainly, turning to face Bianca; her eyelids low and mouth turned up in a coy smile, nibbling her lip. “I’ve wanted you since I met you, Bianca. And I care about you, and I want to get to know you more - that’s what I was trying to tell you back there before all that shit happened. I want to take this further. But I also want to  _ do _ more  _ with _ you, so fucking bad.” Her voice had taken up this whiny, husky quality, her eyelids flickering. “I know you do too, even if you’re too shy to say it.”   
“I’m not ‘shy’ about shit, I-”   
“Oh, shut up, B.” She smirked. “Do you wanna do this or not? Do you want  _ me _ ?”

 

She took Bianca’s hands, leaning into her and touching their foreheads together; Bianca eventually bridged the gap as if to answer her question, pulling her into a deep kiss and toying with Courtney’s lip between her teeth. Courtney’s hands were all over Bianca’s hair before she knew what she was doing. She stood up, resting one knee on Bianca’s stool, yearning to get their bodies as close together as she physically could; Bianca’s hands cupping Courtney’s hips as the Australian murmured, softly pulling at B’s hair as she rocked her hips against nothing, so desperately lustful that her control of herself was starting to go. She wanted her, and she wanted her now. 

 

Bianca pulled away for a moment, voice low as she left Courtney slack-jawed and pouting at the kiss’s end. “If you take your tongue out of my throat for five seconds, I’ll show you through to my room.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to take less than a month with the next one. It's gonna be a good'un....


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it only took 12 chapters but here's (the first instalment) of the mystical 'eventual smut'. You're welcome.

If Courtney had had her way, the journey to the bedroom would have been one made in a flurry of hands and lips and trailing kisses, and their clothes would have been abandoned here and there down the hall before they even got there. However, Bianca evidently wasn’t quite up to that, and so she’d had to restrain herself. Courtney stood back as the older woman seated herself in the most comfortable position that her fractured leg would allow, before perching down by her side and kissing her hard, kicking off her shoes as she went. Bianca gave an airy sigh, caressing Courtney’s cheek with one hand as they kissed. Courtney’s hand worked to unzip Bianca’s dress, the other woman unmoving and unprotesting. Courtney couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief at this; thank god there’d been no protest or second thought this time.

 

That was one thing she couldn’t quite shake the fear of - that Bianca would second-guess again, and not because it would mean another moment of amour dead in the water, but because that would definitely be a sign that B wasn’t quite as into her as she was to her. No matter. The garment was eventually pulled off over her shoulders and discarded in a wine-hued heap on the floor. Her bra was in shades of red and black complementary to the rest of her ensemble, lacy and translucent - covering those gorgeous boobs, but only just - with high-waisted panties to match. Courtney leaned down to press a kiss to the now-exposed skin - the affection turning to something more aggressive as she bit down, sucking hard - aiming to leave a mark on the other woman’s decolletage, as Bianca gasped and murmured. Her own hands had gone to Courtney’s zipper, and the upper half of the other woman’s dress slipped down to her hips, pooling mint-green and satiny - just exposing the waistband of her underwear. Bianca purred, raising an eyebrow. 

 

“Of fucking course you aren’t wearing a bra.” 

Courtney shrugged. “One of the odd perks of being built like an ironing board.” Bianca murmured some protest at this, both hands on Courtney’s perky tits, thumbs running circles over her nipples, squeezing her fingers into her pale flesh. Courtney let out a low moan. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, or how fucking much I’ve wanted it…” She trailed off, another whining moan taking over her voice; Bianca kissed the corner of her mouth, before deepening the affection, pressing their tongues together and still teasing Courtney’s nipple with one hand. 

 

The Aussie reached around Bianca’s back as they kissed, unhooking the other woman’s bra and letting it drop to the bed in between them - breaking out of the kiss to properly look at her breasts now that they were on full show. Bianca’s curves were entirely something else now that she was seeing her almost fully in the nude; she couldn’t get over how beyond fucking incredible those damn boobs were. Something else piqued her curiosity now that the brassiere has been discarded - a flash of coloured ink on the left side of Bianca’s rib cage; no more than about two inches long, age-worn and faded. A rose, if she wasn’t mistaken - bright scarlet.  _ Of course it was fucking red _ . Courtney delicately touched her hand to the tattooed skin, smirking. 

“I wasn’t expecting that, Miss B.”

“What can I say? Woman of many secrets.” She said with a coquettish lopsided smile on her face. “Everybody does stupid shit whilst drunk and in college. That was a little harder to get rid of than the nipple piercings.” Courtney giggled, raising one eyebrow. 

“I must say, it’s not exactly unwelcome. Suits you, in an uncharacteristic sort of a way.” She smiled at this, the faint pink twinge of a blush rising to her cheeks. Courtney edged nearer to her, pressing their bodies closer - desperate for skin-on-skin contact with the other woman. She’d held her desire at bay for what felt like forever now, and in a sudden rush it seemed to take hold of her. 

 

She let go of Bianca for a moment, turning to lie on her back - kicking her dress off and onto the floor beside Bianca’s discarded attire; her legs curled into her body, knees raised and thighs slightly parted. She grasped hold of Bianca by the shoulder - desperate for some kind of release from the insatiable lust that had taken hold of her being - and pulling her down to follow. The other woman flinched away almost immediately. 

 

Bianca gave a sharp gasp at the sudden movement, her face twitching with pain. She adjusted her seated position, grasping Courtney’s wrists and removing her hands from her body. Courtney murmured something incoherently as Bianca gently sat her up again, guiding her chin with her hand so that the other woman was looking directly at her. Bianca silenced her quiet protesting with a quick kiss. Courtney melted into the affection like butter, so ardent with anticipation that she practically couldn’t speak. 

“Courtney, if we’re gonna do this then we’ve got to do it on my terms. I’m still kinda delicate, and that hurt like a bitch - I can’t get rough with you. Promise me you’ll listen to me, and do as I tell you. Okay?” 

 

Courtney nodded, an exhalation that almost sounded like the word ‘yes’ accompanying the action. Bianca smiled at this, leaning her head up to kiss the other woman’s neck, pushing silky pink hair back off of her shoulder as she nibbled and sucked, feeling the moan rising in Courtney’s throat before she heard it. One hand reached up to delicately tease a nipple - Courtney’s hand clawed at Bianca’s shoulder, pulling her closer as her body trembled under the other woman’s touch. She dipped her head down lower, lips coming into contact with the smooth flesh of her breast, leaving behind a bright red scar of lipstick framing Courtney’s areola. She kissed again, teeth just closing around the stiff rouge bud of her nipple; fleeting and delicate, enough to cause just enough pain to make Courtney cry out a little, her voice wavering to a moan as she let her go.   
  
The hand not holding onto Courtney’s shoulder now wandered down to between her parted thighs, tracing circles on her alabaster skin with her scarlet acrylic nails. Courtney’s head fell onto Bianca’s shoulder, fervently kissing at her collarbone; starved and desperate, trying to keep as little space between them as was physically possible. Bianca murmured, her voice wavering as Courtney’s lips pressed hard to her pulse point, leaving behind a bright violet flourish of a love bite when they eventually broke away. Their lips pressed together, tongues just touching enough to taste one another as Bianca slipped one hand into Courtney’s lacy underwear. Her skin was smooth, already soaking wet beneath the peachy-pink lace. Courtney’s body was trembling, breaking away from the kiss. She buried a hand deep in Bianca’s hair at the crown of her head, pulling hard as B teased her clit with her thumb. Bianca had a smile wide on her face, dimples on full show as Courtney’s eyelids fluttered.    
  


“God, Bianca....”

 

Courtney shivered beneath her touch, Bianca suppressing her own murmuring as Courtney’s lips pressed to her nipples through the lace of her bra - it seemed like she was unable to keep herself off of Bianca for more than thirty seconds; her every action fervent and desperate. B couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so fucking wet; her own arousal mounting and twisting in the pit of her stomach, her breath growing heavy. Bianca brought her free hand up to tilt Courtney’s chin towards her own; their faces a hair apart as Bianca continued to tease Courtney’s clit through her underwear. The blonde had started to rock her hips against her hand, desperate for some kind of friction - some sort of release. There was a nasally whine to her mumbled words, inarticulate and yet somehow still begging. B couldn’t make out a thing she was saying, but she knew exactly what she meant. Bianca  smiled, running her pointed tongue along her ivory-white teeth. 

 

“Just relax for me, baby.” She murmured, stroking Courtney’s hair as the other woman writhed and panted. “Take your time - we’ve got all night.” Courtney nodded slightly, her eyelids fluttering as she slowly stopped moving; one hand grasping Bianca’s wrist all the same, trying to get her to move faster. 

“Please, B - you’re fucking killing me here.” Courtney lowered her head, a slight tremble to her voice - it was almost as though talking was somehow laboured for her. 

“I’m in charge here - you agreed.”    
“Yeah, and I’m regretting it now. I-” Her voice was cut off as she subsided into a sharp gasp, chest heaving and a wonky smile on her lips as Bianca slipped one finger inside of her and curled it to press to her g-spot, making her melt into a trembling mess once again. Courtney spread her legs further apart until she was virtually in a split with her shins folded underneath her, one arm gripping Bianca’s thigh desperately, and her other on the woman’s shoulder, holding herself upright as she shivered. 

“Patience, baby. Stop whinging and maybe I’ll give you what you want, hmm?” Courtney nodded again, still reflexively moving her pelvis against Bianca’s hand, grinding her clit against the ball of Bianca’s thumb. She gave a series of satisfied murmurs, Bianca kissing her again - the words slurring against Bianca’s lips. “God, you’re gorgeous…” 

 

Courtney couldn’t even find the words to reply - the finer arts of speaking alluding her in the heat of the moment. Bianca had a second finger inside her now, steadily pumping in and out - curling every so often to push against her. Courtney’s mind flashed here and there - glancing every so often to the image of B when they had first met, so completely scared shitless of her with a combination of ‘God, she’s hot’ and legitimate fear at how intimidating she had a knack for being, and how she would surely have thought one was insane were they to tell her at the time that she’d be jumping into bed with this terrifying Aphrodite two weeks after their first meeting. And too, her brain visited those stupid little fantasies that had sprung to her mind whenever she’d thought about B since that first night making out on the couch like teenagers - and of how, of all of these, she never could have imagined what was truly to come. She arched her back, moaning as Bianca gently twisted a nipple. God, this woman was incredible…

 

She felt her muscles starting to go into spasm, trying not to thrust against the other woman’s hand per instruction, but unable to stop herself - the swell of an orgasm rising and making her head spin. The knuckles of the hand that grasped Bianca’s shoulder turned white, leaving behind angry red marks in the other woman’s flesh as she raked her nails down Bianca’s back; furiously pumping her hips against Bianca as the other woman slowed down to her absolute annoyance, leaving her sitting on the agonising cusp of a climax.

 

“God, you can’t seem to be near me without making me bleed somehow, can you?” Bianca gave a breathy laugh, relishing the sting of the scratches down her back. 

“Bianca…” That panting moan was back in Courtney’s voice, her hooded eyes full of lust and her face contorted - the simple word alone telling all. 

“Do you want me to keep going?” She asked somewhat sarcastically. 

“Fuck you.” 

 

“I think you’ll find I’m the one fucking you, and I’m not appreciating your tone right now.” Bianca grinned wickedly, seeming to relish the power she now had over the other woman. 

“Bitch,” Courtney spoke through a gasping sigh; what had been born of necessity had essentially become kink - Bianca managing to dominate her with words alone. Bianca eventually gave in, putting one hand behind Courtney’s neck and kissing her ferociously, teeth on her lips, barely giving her space to breathe as she started to move her hand again, Courtney dripping wet and trembling beneath her touch. 

 

It took barely any time at all to get her to that peak again - Courtney’s hair was in disarray, lipstick smudged everywhere; a light mist of sweat on her back and a flush to her cheeks as she moaned against Bianca’s lips as she fucked her. B broke away again, pressing her forehead to Courtney’s and pushing her further over the edge with each movement of her hand as Courtney bucked and writhed, shaking. 

“Come for me, baby…” The words were sultry and quiet, barely there and hardly audible over Courtney’s loud gasps and moans, and yet they were enough to send her into the climax - Bianca pulling her through her orgasm by curling her fingers again, reaching down with her thumb to rub her clit gently. 

“Oh- fuck- Bianca…” 

 

Her muscles slackened and her body flopped backwards against B’s pillows as she finished, Bianca withdrawing her hand, slowly licking her fingers clean and running her free hand through Courtney’s sweat-dampened hair as the other woman lay back panting, basking in the afterglow. 

 

“Fuck, Courtney - you’re delicious.” Bianca smiled, slowly lying down by Courtney’s side with a little wincing and twitching. Her leg wasn’t giving her nearly as much hell as she’d been anticipating - though she’d managed to keep mostly still throughout the whole thing, her hand and Courtney’s hips doing most of the work. Courtney lay her head on Bianca’s chest, stroking her breast. 

“God, that was so much better than I could ever have imagined.” 

“Imagined? You’ve been thinking about this a lot?”

“Way too fucking much.” Courtney laughed. “Shit - for all your complaining, you’re really not half-bad for a forty-year old with a fucked leg.”

“Insulting - damned with faint praise, I think.” 

“You knew what I meant, B…” The brunette smiled, kissing her cheek. 

 

“I mean you didn’t drink and you don’t do caffeine, so you were basically Mormon for the night. I had to give you something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per, thanks a bunch to V for stopping me from including shit ideas, and for that absolute gem of a last line ;) It's also thanks to her that you weren't waiting another five chapters for this - in her words, 'Bianca's hands still work' so I was essentially peer-pressured into writing this bit sooner.


	14. Chapter 14

Courtney woke up to the stark mid-morning light illuminating the room through the crack in the thin grey curtains - the tanned arm of the woman who she’d fallen asleep next to resting on her bare chest. Bianca was dead-to-the-world asleep, the remnants of her makeup in black rings around her eyes and a faint pinkish blur at the corners of her mouth. Courtney felt her eyelids flutter, still resting in that sweet limbo of not-quite-awake where if she just put her head back down then she’d fall asleep again no problem - her blurred thoughts filled with notions of spending the rest of her morning with the gorgeous brunette; eating breakfast with her and chatting and laughing as they had the previous evening. Maybe she’d get an education in how the fuck a blessed French press worked after all. She nestled her head back down on the pillow, strains of pink hair falling into her face as she settled down with a purr, placing her own hand atop Bianca’s and watching the other woman give a faint smile in her sleep. As she went to shut her eyes again, she just caught the blurry outline of the LED display of B’s alarm clock in her peripheral vision, and it suddenly slapped her awake.  _ 11:34 _ .

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ . She rolled onto her back, dragging her hands down her face and letting out a low groan; hushing almost immediately as Bianca stirred by her side. Okay, so she was late for the morning rehearsal by five hours -  _ why the hell did she agree to go out on a Friday _ ? And she was still naked, in bed with Bianca in her apartment, halfway across the city. And she’d left her fucking cell in her purse, which she’d left in her car. Nightmare upon nightmare upon clusterfuck upon nightmare. At least she’d had the foresight to leave some spare clothes in her trunk - thank heavens for small mercies. Granted, that did mean braving the walk of shame in her cocktail dress and heels, but it wasn’t exactly like that was something she’d never done before.

Her first problem was Bianca, she noted as she went through the steps in her head. It wouldn’t be so much of an issue under any circumstances that were even remotely normal, but she was still on crutches among other things, and top of her priority list was not disturbing her. God knows she needed her rest after the night they’d had. They’d been up til gone three, and B had rocked Courtney’s world in every way imaginable; she hadn’t let her do anything in return for obvious reasons, so she couldn’t wait to see her once she’d healed so she could return the various favours, but that was another story for a few weeks’ time. Slowly, Courtney sat up; shuffling to the edge of the bed and putting her bare feet down on the ground, praying that Bianca didn’t have any floorboards loose. Bianca seemed to notice the movement; turning her head to her with her eyes half-open, murmuring inarticulately.    


"Go back to sleep, love," Courtney said, still half-asleep herself; her voice thick. “I just need to go piss.” Blatant lies, but Bianca in her state of half-slumber seemed to buy it, turning over and nestling back down with a few pained murmurs. God, poor thing. It had been a couple of weeks now and her injuries still seemed to be bothering her - Courtney felt dreadful. Still not the task at hand - where the fuck was her underwear? She remembered she hadn’t come in a bra, but where...Bingo. She found her peach-hued thong just protruding from under the edge of the bed, making a grab for it and putting it on as she stood up. The dress she simply slipped into back-to-front, zipping it as far as it would go over her chest and leaving it at that. Whilst maybe not modest, she was at least decent. That would do for now until she got to her car so she could change. Was there even much point in showing up now, anyway? She’d missed more than she’d wind up being there for once she got there - it would be half twelve at the absolute earliest once she rocked up. Oh well - dedication or whatever.

She actually felt almost fortunate that she hadn’t hung around as she slipped out the door with her shoes in her hand, taking one last look at Bianca’s sleeping form on the bed with a small smile on her face - god, she was just fucking perfect, wasn’t she? Well, she sure as shit wouldn’t be invited back if B had seen her now; hair hanging lank and greasy, makeup smeared into a state and her eyes puffy and lips chapped and kiss-swollen. She could practically taste her morning breath - why the fuck did she have falafel the night before? So many bad decisions in retrospect. Whatever. She slunk through Bianca’s hallway into what she was fairly certain was her entrance hall. Wrong. Shit. Living room. 

She tried to pull the door shut as quietly as was possible, but dropped her shoes onto the wooden floor in the process with a clatter - wincing at the noise before it was replaced by a cacophony of yippy barking. She grit her teeth. So  _ that’s _ where the dogs had been. So much for a swift exit, then. She crouched to pick her shoes up; intercepted by Sammy (or, at least she was sure it was Sammy in the half-light; he was the one that liked her more, wasn’t he?) throwing himself at her for kisses. She frantically shushed him as she scratched his ears, standing up as he then proceeded to throw himself at her legs, desperate for attention - Dede still barking fit to wake the dead. And her owner, most likely. Courtney could hope that this wasn’t the case, but she was apprehensive and doubting all the same. That would be fucking embarrassing - she hadn’t thought about how she was going to justify why Bianca had woken up to half of her bed empty when another had shared it the night before, but she hadn’t planned on having to do it in person. 

Apparently she’d taken more time than she’d realised trying to shut the dogs up and pen them back in the living room than she’d planned to, because when she eventually got out of the room - Dede still intermittently yapping as though simply to spite her. Could she speak English, Court theorised she was saying something to the effect of ‘ _I’m telling my mom on you’_ - she found Bianca standing in the hall. She gave a heavy sigh, putting a palm to her head and biting her lip.

The brunette was leaning heavily on one crutch, her other hand on the wall to hold herself steady - her hair in total disarray. She’d made something of a half-assed attempt to tie it back, but it hung in a loose tangle at the side of her face, drooping in odd directions from her ponytail. Her makeup, or what remained of it, was all the more chaotic in proper light. She was dressed in a translucent, floor-length dressing gown - a bizarre geometric pattern in horrendously clashing shades of cyan and magenta - clearly tied hastily as it slipped off one shoulder and exposed most of her right breast. She gave a wry smile, a small laugh escaping her like breath at Courtney’s red-faced humiliation. 

“Leaving so soon?” 

“I can’t fucking believe this - so, you do own clothes that aren’t black or red?” Courtney smirked, walking up to her and slouching against the wall. Her smile was wan and embarrassed, her cheeks still flushed pink.   
“Fuck you.” She spoke through a laugh, looking down and grinning. There was this adorable edge of bashful smittenness to her expression and tone which made Courtney want to die. “Explain, honey.”   
“I’m really sorry, B. I didn’t want to just walk, but I’m like,  _ really _ fucking late to a rehearsal and I think my director might personally tear me limb from limb if I’m any later.” Bianca shrugged a little.   
“It’s okay - I just want to know what the fuck you were doing to my dogs that made them freak like that.” She smirked, dimples on full show as Courtney placed one hand atop the one which was on the wall.    
“They realised I was sneaking out and tried to tattle on me.” She shrugged, a small laugh playing about her voice. “Bianca, I-”   
“I’ve been awake for three and a half minutes, don’t start your mushy shit on me. Too early for that.” Her voice was gritty and slurred with the remnants of sleep. “And I don’t want to hear shit about how it’s nearly midday either.” Her expression softened, trying to interlock her fingers with Courtney’s but almost tripping up and falling over  in the process. “I had a great time last night, Court. I mean, all things considered. And I wanna do both this and you again soon.” She gave a smirk at this, her tongue poking out to lick her lips. 

“Smooth,” Courtney said with a grin. “I mean, it was nice to meet your friends at least-”   
“Laganja isn’t my friend.”   
“Well, whatever. I had a fucking amazing evening with you too, and you’re a great spooning buddy. Even though you snore.”   
“Do I?” Bianca looked at her quizzically, challenging and smirking.    
“Okay, not  _ snore  _ per se. You just breathe kind of like a chain smoker if you lay on your back.”   
“Well, my ex was one - it’s second-hand.” She shrugged.    
“And I wanna give you something back next time - I bet you taste fucking incredible.”   
Bianca raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were a vegan - surely eating pussy goes against that somehow?”    
“Oh shut it, you.” She swatted at her playfully, barely an inch between their bodies. “I do wanna see you again soon, desperately. When are you next free?”   
“I don’t know - let me reiterate, I’m barely awake. I’m not even sure what way’s up right now.”    
“Fair enough.” Courtney smiled, before some of her previous urgency returned to her. “Oh, shit - see, this is partly why I didn’t want you waking up, because I didn’t have time for a big lengthy goodbye.”   
“Okay, I’ll stop running my mouth and let you scoot then.” Bianca stood up from her slouched position against the wall, shuffling awkwardly and wincing a little. “See you soon, Court.”   


“Quick pash for the road?” She cocked her head, one hand resting on Bianca’s shoulder. “Be warned, I absolutely fucking reek of garlic.”   
“Oh trust me, I know all about that.” Bianca gave a wicked grin, before leaning in to kiss the other woman; her lips just parted, lingering for a second or two before forcing herself to pull away. 

“Okay, I’ll actually get out of your hair now. Go catch up on your beauty sleep, hon.” Courtney kissed her cheek before turning and walking out the door as Bianca looked on with a vacant smile on her face - too tired to particularly  _ feel _ anything, but a vague miasma of happiness hanging in the air all the same. 

She hobbled back to her room, flopping back down onto her bed with her robe still on once she got there, turning onto her back with a murmur of discomfort as she picked her phone up from the nightstand - glancing at the slew of sloppy texts on the screen with a chuckle. 

_ ADORE DELANO - MESSAGES (11 UNREAD) _

_ bee _

_ bianker _

_ banca _

_ mom _

_ hnggover _

_ i did too many drugs n alcohol and now i have a hanfover _

_ pls halp xoxo _

_ mom _

_ im rly ssorry fr ruining ur date ily _

_ r u mad at me,,,,??? _

_ :((( _


	15. Chapter 15

Courtney had changed in the back of her car - thank Christ for tinted windows - and was halfway across town, stuck in the sluggish traffic, alone with her daydreams. Shed decided to detour to grab some breakfast before heading to her stupid fucking rehearsal that she’d be lucky if she was there for a third of, sitting seething with the frustration of it all. Now dressed in leggings and a grossly oversized hoodie, her messed-up hair sticking out of her sloppy bun in every direction, and the remnants of yesterday’s mascara still smeared around her eyes in smudgy raccoon circles, she wasn’t exactly about to win any beauty contests, but at least she just looked like she was tired now as opposed to fleeing the scene of a drunken rendezvous.

God, last night was playing over and over in her head like a video cassette stuck on some kind of a demented loop, and she couldn’t decide if she loved or hated it. She could still feel the ghosts of Bianca’s fingertips dancing over her skin; those gorgeous plump lips against her own - then travelling down; hot on her breasts, teeth toying with her nipples. It was distracting to say the least - and not to mention aggravating that they could have done it all again had she not decided to bolt. 

True, the night before had played out practically identically to her misty fantasies; those odd thoughts that would come to her as she lay on the cusp of dozing off at night, or as she ran her hands down her own body in the shower. Bianca was fucking  _ incredible _ with her hands - and that was with a damn handicap. Courtney only wished she’d have let her give something in return. She knew her reasons for not letting it happen, of course, but it still sucked. And the fleeting whimpers and murmurs that had escaped her as Courtney touched her nipples or gently teased her clit between kisses the night before had been just divine; she desperately wanted to find out what would happen when she got her properly het up. On her back and begging; totally at Courtney’s mercy. She wanted to make her moan; she wanted to make her come. And it was fucking agonising to think that she wouldn’t be allowed to for another few weeks.

Of course, Courtney’s life at this point was really just one big sex fantasy, she realised that, but there was something decadent and voyeuristic and beautiful about watching somebody else in ecstasy under her hand; calling her name and begging her for more. She wanted Bianca so fucking badly it hurt; and it had only been a few hours since they’d fucked. So much for that getting it out of her system - if anything, it just made it worse.

She pulled into the parking lot of the Starbucks, diving into her back seat and fishing her handbag out of the footwell. Courtney felt her heart sink as she checked her phone for the first time that morning. She glanced at it as she dug around for her puse - cursing under her breath as she skim-read the message that lit up her screen - having to do so over and over so before it actually sunk in. 

JINKX MONSOON (1 UNREAD)

_ Tech rsal cancelled - f knows why?? Something abt double booking or what the fuck ever - fortunate i guess.  Not really feeling like getting out of bed today ngl x _

Courtney’s forehead hit the steering wheel with a soft ‘thunk’ as she cursed. She was pissed; frustrated beyond all belief at how fucking inconvenient and annoying this was when she’d already had to make such a performance of leaving Bianca’s. And of course she couldn’t be assed going back  _ now _ . She wasn’t sure how much more embarrassing herself with the other woman she could physically take. Still - a note of concern played into her frustration at the text. What precisely was up with Jinkx?

COURTNEY JENEK:

_ Are you okay honey? X _

The answer came almost immediately:

JINKX MONSOON (2 UNREAD)

_ Not really. _

_ Ivy dumped me. _

* * *

“Well well well, look at what the cat dragged in.”

“Stalker,” Courtney gave a small laugh, rolling her eyes as Sharon bounced up behind her; punk garbage from head to foot as per, Docs and shredded-up jeans, a tank top reading ‘WORLD’S COOLEST GOTH MOM’; her buzzcut having grown out a little, pink having washed out to leave her natural mouse contrasting against her bleached blonde ends. “I can’t even get a fucking coffee in peace nowadays, can I?”

“I’m just using you to cut the line, don’t flatter yourself.” She curled her lip, resting her elbow on Courtney’s shoulder as they stood in the Starbucks line. She stared at her for a moment, before her lips curled into a smirk. “I know that face - that’s an ‘I got fucked last night’ face.” She said accusingly, folding her arms as a grin spread across her face; Courtney feeling the vague flush of a blush rising to her cheeks. “Oh my god, I’m right - how was she?”

“Not bad for a cripple as I’m sure you’d say.” Courtney smirked, shuffling forward with the line as Sharon’s face shifted more from being a smirk to a slack-jawed gasp.  
  
“You fucking  _ minx _ \- I love it.” She grinned. “What did you guys do?”   
  
“Well, like...We went for dinner and shit, then a couple of her weird friends - well, one of them was her friend anyway - showed up drunk and stoned and kinda...interrupted.” Courtney grimaced, rolling her eyes as she felt herself trying not to cringe at the memory. “So we went back to hers, one thing led to another, and well...I think you know the rest. I think I came at least five times.” Sharon raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Seems promising. You picked the right bitch to run over. What’s your secret?” 

“To what? Being a shitty driver?”   
  
“No, fucking finding somebody.” Sharon huffed, rolling her eyes; standing to wait as Courtney ordered, before going to sit.   


“Tinder not working out for you?”   
  
She shook her head. “It’s been a fucking shitshow. I’ve had two dates, one attempt at disappointing sex, and that’s been it.”   
  
“Sasha wasn’t your type?” Courtney took a sip of her smoothie, head cocked to one side as she listened.   
  
“Not in the slightest. Weird artsy asshole as predicted, I gave it a shot anyway - she just kept showing me pictures of her dog in weird outfits and talking about going to fucking art college. Then she came home with me, we fooled around a bit, but she had these huge-ass acrylic nails - so we decided that sex wasn’t worth me getting my clit ripped off, she fucked off, and I’ve not spoken to her since.”   


“She was kinda hot, though.”   
  
“I mean, yeah...But she had no tits, and more bush than she had hair on her head.”   
  
Courtney scoffed, shooting Sharon a withering look. “It’s her body.”   
  
“Whatever. I’m fucking shallow.”  
  
“Okay, well that was one. Who was the other?”   
  
“ _ Max _ ...oh, dear fucking Christ…” Sharon curled her lip, before dropping her head to her hands, laughing almost hysterically - it looked almost like she was crying from a certain angle. “Max is an androgynous model from Wisconsin who wouldn’t shut up about how into BDSM and spanking she was when we spoke online. Max and I agreed to meet up for a drink before going back to mine to hook up - literally just no-bullshit no-strings sex. Max drank half of my bank balance because she sat and killed time at the bar for two hours - and kept talking about her lizard. Why do I keep attracting people who are way too fucking into animals?”  Sharon rolled her eyes, pausing in part for breath and partly for effect before she continued.  “Max eventually agreed to come back to mine, made out with me on the couch for five minutes, before she flaked out, and told me that she lied about it all because she couldn’t find a date when she was upfront about wanting to get to know somebody. As a matter of fact, Max is saving herself for marriage.  _ What fucking lesbian saves herself for marriage? _ ” Sharon looked flabbergasted, her mouth hanging open as she flailed her hands, trying desperately to communicate the true extent of her frustration. Courtney appeared taken aback, trying her damndest not to laugh.

“Jesus,” She said with her head in her hands, having to try not to laugh. 

“I fucking quit, Courtney.” She rolled her eyes, groaning. “Screw it, guess I’m never gonna find love again. Do you still have Alaska’s number? I deleted it.”

“Sharon, no. Woman up.”

“Please, Court...I’m clawing holes in my goddamn sheets here; I’ve not fucked anyone or thing for weeks, which for me is some kind of record I think. It doesn’t mean anything, but-”

“It means you gave up, which I’m not letting happen. Just go buy a vibrator for crying out loud.” Sharon stuck out her bottom lip, pouting.

“Don’t wanna.”

“Shazza, don’t be a baby.”

“Well, don’t call me ‘Shazza’ again, you gross fucking bogan.” She half-assedly punched Courtney’s arm, laughing a little. The blonde pondered a moment, before turning to Sharon. 

“If you’re really desperate, then I may have a suggestion.”

“...Go on.” 

“I may or may not have a friend who just got dumped, and will be miserable and vulnerable. Her last squeeze, she fell really hard for, but she was just some straight girl playing around to see if she liked it or not, so she’s pretty upset. She’s kinda your type, so if you really want to swoop in and play Prince Charming, then I’m not going to stop you.”

“What’s her name?”

“Jinkx.” 

Sharon pondered a moment or two, before turning more to face Courtney. “Okay. Tell me more.” 

It took twenty minutes or so of figuring out how exactly Sharon was going to play her cards - another berry smoothie on Courtney’s part and two more espressos on Sharon’s. But eventually, the bait was laid. Courtney and Jinkx had girly drinks planned; Courtney was going to be ‘fashionably late’ (Jinkx being a nightmare for showing up everywhere at least ten minutes early) and Sharon already waiting at the bar. All going according to plan, Sharon would have her three pornstar martinis deep and already putty in her hands by the time the Aussie showed her face. 

“Sharon, you better be nice to her - she’s pining, and she doesn’t deserve to be messed about. Any creepy shit, or any ditching her after you’ve done it, and I promise you that you will never see the light of day again, okay?” Courtney’s tone adopted a more serious note as she drained her second cup, turning to the other woman with a stern glare.

“Fair.” Sharon smirked. “I promise you I won’t. She’s cute, she seems sweet. As long as she’s not a pain in the ass then I’ll be nice to her.”

“Good.” Courtney scooped her things back into her bag, a smile on her face. She stood up, car keys in hand and purse nonchalantly slung over her shoulder.

“Hey, where the hell are you going?”

“I’ve got a certain Latina cripple that I need to ask out to lunch.” 

“God, you’ve barely met her and she already has you fucking whipped.”  


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait but life and my sporadic productivity got in the way - whoops. I'll try not to make you all wait three and a half months again. I really wanted to include Ben as a character somewhere and conversations with V basically meant he wound up being Bianca's shit-talking, very very very gay hair stylist and honestly I love it. Another nonsense chapter but another goodun too :)

“Do you think I’d look good with bangs?”

“Absolutely not, there is no way I am letting you get bangs - you look pissed off enough all the time as is without people not being able to see your eyebrows.” Ben scoffed, running his fingers through Bianca’s hair as she sat in the salon chair, scowling at him in the mirror.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” 

“Only because you like to remind me on a regular basis.” Ben muttered. “Okay, what are we doing again?”

“Just fix my split ends and roots and all that shit. General maintenance.” Bianca said distractedly, examining her inch of rootline in the mirror and wincing as she realise exactly how heavily-threaded with grey her hair was starting to get. Ben gave a tiny nod. This was one of the downsides of the fact that her hairdresser was also her token GBF as of about eight years; she had been in the salon for a good hour already, and she and the dark-haired Seattleite had done very little thus far besides bitching about people and drinking coffee, before remembering why Bianca was there in the first place. Bianca readjusted her seated position uncomfortably, grimacing as she knocked her leg against the bar of the seat. 

“God, could you sit still?”

“You try getting hit by a fucking car and then sitting on your ass for an hour.”

“You got hit by a car a month ago, Bianca - give it a damn rest.” Ben smirked. Bianca curled her lip, scoffing in response. “I mean, that’s a shame, sorry to hear that, how are you doing?” Ben’s tone had picked up to be artificially perky, feigning interest and sympathy. Bianca flipped him off, and the brunet laughed. 

“I’m fine, thank you for asking.” Bianca said flatly. “I mean, I’m fucking done with this shit now, and I kinda just want everything to start being normal again but besides that. I think I get my cast off in like two weeks, which seems like fucking forever away.” She pouted a little, picking at the edge of her loose thumbnail, Ben having finished mixing dyes on the trolley next to him and moving in to section off Bianca’s hair. 

“I know, boo - it sucks. I mean, can’t be that long now til you- hey, what happened to your nails?” Ben squinted at her hand over his glasses; Bianca quickly tucking it back under the black cape.

“Nothing.”

“Okay, now you’re gonna tell me the truth.” Ben folded his arms, looking at her knowingly. What with being basically confined to her apartment save for Courtney-based activities, getting her nails done hadn’t been exactly on the top of her priority list, so her acrylics were grown-out and messy. But what had caught Ben’s attention wasn’t that, but the fact that her middle and ring fingernails on her right hand looked like they’d been attacked by a beaver.

“They were getting all overgrown and gross so I just picked them off, so what?”  
  
“Just those two fingers? And did you pick them off with a chainsaw?” Ben smirked. “...You’re fucking someone, aren’t you?” Bianca remained silent, and Ben’s smile spread across his face as Bianca turned red. “Oh my god, you’re fucking someone.” 

“I might be.” Bianca rolled her eyes, cracking a smile. 

“Let me guess - you were getting down with your bad selves, your nails were too long, she was complaining about it hurting, you stopped for a few seconds and chewed them off, then got back to business. How close was I?”

“...Pretty much totally accurate.” Bianca murmured. Courtney had come over a few nights ago, tipsy and horny as she had been that first night they had met properly, and one thing had led to another. They actually hadn’t bothered to move from her couch, before going back to Bianca’s room and falling asleep together. Courtney had hung around this time and they’d gone out for breakfast together. They had seen each other a few more times, and Bianca was beyond desperate to see more of her. She was beyond desperate for  _ her _ , actually, but she still didn’t feel as though sex would be the best thing for her - given that moving too suddenly still made her wince.

“How the fuck, Bianca?” Ben’s voice snapped her back to reality. “You go through a year of total drought, and now this - are you just pulling a Ted Bundy with the cast and getting this chick to pity you so she sleeps with you, or…?”

“No- well, maybe. Kinda. I don’t think I am, but...”

“Wait, what?”   


“She may or may not be the same person who hit me with her car…” Bianca said quietly, half under her breath. Ben’s jaw dropped, looking at her incredulously. 

“Wait, she’s  _ who _ now?” 

“Look, don’t freak out, I know it’s weird.” She gave a small laugh. “Her name’s Courtney - she’s super cute, she’s an actress, she’s a shitty driver, and I...Look, she’s really sweet. I’m really fucking happy with her, and I think this might actually wind up going somewhere.”   
  
“Barf.” Ben curled his lip, turning back to Bianca’s hair with a dye brush in his latex gloved hand. “You know, I’d say I loved this colour on you, but I’m still mad at you trying to at-home bleach box-dyed black hair so I won’t.”

“I’m not paying you to insult my life choices.”

“Bitch, with the discounts I give you you’re barely paying me at all.” He rolled his eyes, looking to Dede and Sammy sitting on the salon chair next to Bianca in an unzipped mesh-fronted carrier that was apparently trying to be an expensive handbag. “And while we’re on the subject of judging your life choices, since when did you start carrying your dogs around in your purse like an old white lady?” 

“Since Bunny kept ‘forgetting’ to come walk them and I had them crapping on my balcony for two weeks. Adore was babysitting for a few days, and I picked them up on the way here.” She gave a small laugh.  

“They have legs, Bianca. Just let them walk like a normal person would. Boujie asshole.”

“You try handling two leashes and a pair of crutches.”

“Excuses, excuses. I’d expected better of you.” Ben laughed, Bianca shooting him a withering scowl in the mirror - Ben taking no notice as he was distracted by a noise at the door. 

Into the salon walked a guy with lilac hair and a septum piercing, leather man-purse slung over his shoulder. Ben’s face lit up, dropping whatever minuscule hint of professionalism he’d been previously carrying, as the other leaned into embrace him, pressing a kiss to the brunet’s cheek. 

“Hey, baby.”

“ _ Hola, mi amor _ \- oh shit, hey Bianca.” 

“Jason?” Bianca smirked, looking to the other man. Hmm - small fucking world. Jason Carrion was a swing actor who she had met in passing through work a few times - enough to recognise him by name, but not enough to hang out with him outside of hours. 

“The very same, mami.”   
  
“Okay, how long has this been going on and when the hell did you stop telling me these things?” Bianca looked at Ben, who has that disgusting soppy lovesick-teenager look in his eyes that she had seen on him far too many times before. Say what one will about that whole ‘U-Haul lesbian’ stereotype, Ben was entirely something else in regards to getting far too attached far too quickly.   
  
“When you decided to bleach your own hair like a fucking moron.”

“Would you hurry up and get the fuck over that already?” Ben pursed his lips, Jason giggling at the facial expression and kissing his cheek again.

“A few months, maybe?” he replied seeing as his boyfriend apparently wouldn’t. “I left my phone upstairs, baby - I just ran back to grab it. I can’t stay for long.” Ben pouted as Jason walked off, before turning back to Bianca, who wore an incredulous smirk on her face.

“What?”   
  
“What do you mean?”

“What does that  _ face _ mean?” He picked up the dye brush again. 

“It means you’re a hypocrite. So turns out we’re both fucking somebody. Weren’t you bullying me about that five minutes ago? Oh how the tables turn, Ben.”

“That wasn’t why I was bullying you - I don’t take my sexual exploits out on my fucking manicure.”

At this, Jason bounced back into the room before Bianca could make a retort; kissing Ben’s cheek and muttering a goodbye, before turning to Bianca and noticing the crutches leaning against the wall beside her.    
  
“Hey, what the hell happened to you?”

“She got run over, and then decided that the best course of action was to sleep with the chick who ran her over.” Ben rolled his eyes, his arm around Jason’s shoulder.

“I mean, I know what they say about lesbians being fucking crazy, but that’s new.” Jason grinned, resting his head on Ben’s shoulder.

“If you were straight and Courtney did the same to you, trust me - you’d be on my side.”

“Wait up, this isn’t Courtney as in Courtney Jenek?” Jason looked at her quizzically. “I knew some girl from work had some car accident a while ago, but…” He gave a tiny smirk, the thought remaining incomplete as he trailed off. 

“Wait, you know her?”  
  
“Kinda - I worked with her a few times. You’re telling me that Courtney’s gay?” 

“She’s bisexual, actually.”

“You mean she’s indecisive.” Ben chimed in.   


“Is that what I said?”

“You know what I mean, boo - most ‘bi’ girls aren’t bi, they’re either straight, drunk, and desperate, or lesbians who don’t want to admit to it- ow!” He stopped as Jason pinched him on the arm. 

“I don’t have time to stay, so ’m gonna leave before you disappoint me further - go Google what bisexual means, and then work out how you’re gonna apologise for that when I get home.” Jason said with a lilt to his voice that didn’t quite match the words he was saying, before turning to leave, Ben waving to him a little as he went. 

“Fuck off, Ben.” Bianca said half-jokingly. Ben wilted somewhat, his face pulling into a grimace. “And don’t talk shit about my...about Courtney.” She paused, having thankfully rethought her planned choice of adjective a second or two before it passed her lips. 

“You just had to stop yourself from saying ‘girlfriend’ didn’t you?”   


“Go fuck yourself.” She looked away, somewhat embarrassed. 

“Freudian slip if there ever was one,” he grinned, before looking to her in the mirror. “You know, B - you’d look really cute with a bob. Have you ever thought about that?”    
  
Bianca curled her lip. “What? Ew, no. Don’t be stupid.” Ben laughed, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and focusing his attention back on Bianca’s hair. “Anyway, I think Courtney would dump me.”   
  
“Why, is she a hair-puller?”   
  
“...Yes, but that’s besides the point.” Bianca admitted bashfully; Ben pausing and looking to her somewhat knowingly. She changed the subject with speed. “You know, you’re not getting laid again for at least a week unless you apologise your ass off when you next see him.”  
  
“I know.” He curled his lip. “Okay fine, lemme see the indecisive girl’s picture.” Bianca fished her phone out of her handbag - this one was a shitty fake leather thing from Forever 21 or some shit like that; she was still mourning the loss of her Chanel purse that had gotten trashed in the accident. She was going to take that one up with Courtney eventually. Finding Courtney’s Instagram, she handed it back to Ben, who scrolled through for a moment or two, his jaw dropping. “Oh...damn. Okay. You win - well done.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“As long as this one doesn’t reek of cigarettes and talk about her pussy all the time I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”  
  
“Who are you talking about? Katya?”   


“I really got the vibe from her that she didn’t like me much”   
  
“Well maybe it had something to do with you preaching about the benefits of Olaplex and how much you hate the smell of smoke every time she was in earshot of you.”   
  
“Okay I’m sorry but there’s thirsty hair and then there’s that - I’m sure she was using Clorox for root touch-ups.”

**Author's Note:**

> FYI: Posted on Artificialqueens and Rugirlfantasies on Tumblr under the pseudonym 'Edith'


End file.
